The Road to Redemption
by Ladywilde
Summary: Story Complete! 4 years later, Gabriel has been recruited as an agent for the organzation but what happens when he is teamed up w. his new partner a man he has no memory of but with whom he shares an unique and troubled past with MYLAR SLASH R Rated.
1. A New Man

The Road to Redemption

Part One

A New Man

AN: _This story would not leave me alone till I started writing it. I will still be updating, Impossible Things (chpt 3 is nearly complete) but I had to get this one out of my system._

_This is an eventual Mylar pairing…Rated P-13 at the moment but possible R for later chapters. _

"So what do you think?"

Noah Bennett turned a careful eye towards his partner Matt Parkman and smiled.

"I think he'll do just fine," he replied.

"Yeah, well - you didn't take four bullets from the guy."

"And you haven't stopped bitching about it since - besides, he's not that man anymore and the more we remind him and ourselves of that man, the worse it will be for all concerned."

Matt nodded solemnly as he raised a cup of coffee to his lips and took a sip.

"Shit," he muttered as the hot liquid scalded his tongue.

"That was hot," he added and Bennett just raised an eyebrow, smirked.

"You're an idiot, know that?"

"Yeah, yeah…I know, Janice tells me at least twice before breakfast."

Bennett nodded, "Get him ready, would you?"

"Yeah, sure…that lackey will get to it boss," Matt quipped as Bennett started away from him.

"Hey, so wait a second, who you partnering him with?"

"Claire," Bennett answered and watched as Matt's eyes got wide.

"She'll do fine," he added and then shook his head, "actually, she's only the mediator of sorts - I am pairing him up with Mohinder Suresh."

Matt laughed out loud.

"You got to be kidding me!"

"What's funny?"

"It's all freaking funny Noah!" Matt chuckled, "for one…you have managed to turn some super powered mass murder into some docile little super agent and you want to partner him with YOUR daughter, the one may I add…he tried to kill and with the guy…whose father he killed!"

Noah just glared him.

"So you don't see the humor in this?"

Bennett ignored him.  
"They'll be fine," Bennett said, "I have spent four years on this assignment, if Sylar was still anywhere _in_ that man, do you honestly think I would send him out with MY daughter or Suresh?"

Matt shrugged, " No…"

"No," Bennett added, in a tone a voice that made it perfectly clear he wanted the subject dropped.

"I wouldn't," he went on, "Sylar is dead and that man in there is Gabriel Gray, get used to it…I have."

He turned and started away, leaving Matt behind to shake his head at such a thought.

----

For his part Gabriel Gray didn't remember much about the months he had spent being a serial killer named Sylar. In fact, the more he learned about the guy he was (_which wasn't much_) - the more thankful he was to have had it all wiped away from his memory.

He for one could not fathom how he could have done such horrible things in the first place. He was or so he thought, was the kind of guy who hated to see anyone hurt or in pain and he was just grateful that now he had been a chance to make a difference in the world.

He could at last be special and help others - do things that meant _something_.

He had been a long four years training for this day.

It had been nearly four years since, he had awoken with powers he couldn't believe he possessed (_not too mention a pretty nasty stab wound_) but on top of the powers that the organization had helped him to fine tune over the years. He had also received weapons and hand to hand combat training - he was also pretty good with computers and others technological stuff. In fact, picking all that stuff up had been easy and Bennett seemed pleased at the way he was able to master things so quickly.

It was like a dream come true - he was going to get to be a spy! He still couldn't believe it. Here he was a normal enough guy (_unless you counted the telekenis or the super hearing or any of the other neat tricks he now possessed._)

And he had been caught up seemingly overnight into what felt like a surreal movie. He was lonely but he was also happy in a sense. He could make a difference. He could do all the great things his mother had told him she saw in him.

Except, he had once been a terrible person and he had killed a lot of people. It wasn't something he liked to dwell on and Noah Bennett had assured him many a time that it was what he did now with himself that was important. The past is the past, he would say and Gabriel would nod and take those words to heart. It was hard though especially around the other guys he trained with, they always seemed to be eying him wearly as if they expected him to fly off the handle at any second.

He just wished sometimes he could remember more about his life. Maybe, not the bad things he had done but surely it hadn't all been bad, right? There must have been some good. It was fustrating to only remember bits and pieces of the man he had been before.

"I want to see my family," he remembers telling Bennett, " I have a mother - she's a widow and she must be worried about me."

"You don't have a mother Gabriel."

"No," he said, shaking his head, "I do - I remember that much…her name is Virginia and she - she lives in Queens."

Noah had come over to him and sat down.

"No - Gabriel…your mothers dead, she's been dead for awhile now."

"How?"

"You don't remember?"

Gabriel had shaken his head, "No…I don't…I …what happened?"  
"Cancer," Bennett said solemnly," she died of cancer."

He had had placed a comforting arm around his shoulders and Gabriel was thankful for Bennett. He seemed to be the only person around who didn't look at him like he was some kind of monster, well him and his daughter Claire. They had gotten to be friends of sorts and she was a nice girl. Yet, sometimes she would look at him as if she expected him to hurt her but those moments were few and far between. They got along pretty well for the most part.

So - he had sat there, feeling comforted and trying to remember his mother. Yet, she was only there in the back of his mind, somewhere - hazy and unfocused. He wanted to cry but found he couldn't because he could only vaguely remember what it had felt like to care for her in the first place.

----------------

Yet, slowly in the last four years he had certain dreams: he dreamt of his mother sometimes, she was always so angry with him in those dreams and they were fighting and …

He always woke up covered in sweat, his heart pounding - hoping that their last conversation together hadn't ended with them fighting with her shrieking at him, her eyes big and frightened and then there were other dreams… of a man, one whose face he could never quite make out but he was beautiful, he knew that much and his voice was smooth and accented and he always woke up before he could make out his face clearer.

Those dreams troubled him the most but he couldn't even begin to tell himself why.

------------------

Bennett sauntered over to the workstations to find Mohinder Suresh working with the other techies at the com stations. He headed up research these days but he also made an excellent field man. He had weapons and tactile training of his own and was quite equipped to handle himself these days.

He was shouting out orders as Bennett approached, "I need to talk to you," he said, all business.

Mohinder nodded, and barked out another command - one that went immediately heeded as Mohinder was no one to mess with these days and he had the attention and respect of everyone in their organization.

He followed after Bennett who went into Mohinder's office with Mohinder following, closing the door behind the both of them.

"What is it?"

Mohinder had no use for idle chit chat.

His days were long and busy enough but he knew Noah wasn't a man who chatted - not when he shut the office door anyway.

"My pet project," he started and watched as Mohinder stiffened at those words, "he's ready."

Mohinder swallowed hard and looked away, "Congratulations on rehabilitating a madman."

"A madman he has no recollection of being," Bennett told him.

Mohinder shrugged and went over to his desk, sat on it and turned to Bennett.

"So, what the hell does this have to do with me?"

"He's going to be your new partner."

Mohinder's eyes widened and he shook his head.

"No," he said.

"You can't say no," Bennett told him.

"I just did…"

"So you're resigning?"

Mohinder just stared at him.

"Are you serious. Bennett, you want me to quit if I don't take him on as a partner! That man killed my father."

"I know," Bennett said quietly.

"I know you two have history," he added.

Mohinder looked away and Bennett continued, "But, you two are a good fit! He's not Sylar, not anymore - he's Gabriel Gray and he's one of the sharpest, most efficient agents I have ever had the privilege of training and he needs someone like you."

Mohinder turned his gaze back towards him, "Fine," he muttered.

"And as back up - so you don't kill the guy… I am sending you out with Claire, if anyone is going to keep you two in line its her, understand?"  
"I said fine," Mohinder answered, his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Alright, get off your pity party and come meet him, would you?"  
"I have already met him," Mohinder said bitterly and Bennett smiled, "Yeah, well he's never met you so let's go, shall we?"

--------------

"You nervous?"

Gabriel turned in his seat to take in the pretty blonde woman sitting next to him.

Claire Bennett, now twenty-one and a beautiful woman dressed in a sleek black pants suit and a tousled mane of blonde hair, grinned at him.

"I guess so…"

Claire nudged him.

"You're going to do great things out there, trust me," she said.

"I hope so," Gabriel said and sipped at his coffee as they sat together in an empty conference room waiting for Bennett to come in with information on his first assignment.

"I know so, I saw you in the training vids…you're like a one man army out there," she smiled, "It's going to be just fine."

He wasn't convinced, his nerves were making him fidgety. It was something that he and Bennett had discussed many times. How he needed to focus more and calm himself. He had to be careful not to late his emotions get too heated and agitated but he couldn't help himself. He was a nervous wreck. He wished he was more like Claire. From what he had heard, she was very good at her job and she was still pretty young and he stole a glance at her. She was cool as a freaking cucumber as she sipped her diet soda and watched the door.

"He'll be here soon," she said, "he's just bringing with him are new partner who I am sure needed to be dragged kicking and screaming out of his office for this one."

"Why?"

She turned to Gabriel and averted her gaze slightly while she shrugged her shoulders.

"He's a nice enough guy, Mohinder but he has a hard time loosening up," she answered quickly and there was that bright cheery smile again but something in her tone made him uneasy.

Before, he could ask her more the door opened and Bennett stepped into the room, apologizing as he held the door open for someone else.

Into the room stepped Mohinder Suresh wearing a stony expression as he locked eyes on the man sitting across the table.

The time stopped for Gabriel as he could only gape at the man who had entered, his stomach dropping as it did so.

A terrible sense of déjà vu washed over him as he took in the man who had entered the room.

Then it hit him and it hit him hard as realization flooded over him.

He was staring into the cold eyes of the man he had spent the last four years dreaming about.


	2. A Rough Start

Chapter 2

A Rough Start

_Summary: Gabriel Gray, the organizations newest field agent gets off to a rough start with his new partner as both of them accompanied by Claire start off on their first assignment together…_

"I'm Mohinder Suresh," he says and gives Bennett the evil eye while leaning across the table to take Gabriel's outstretched hand.

Mohinder shakes it quickly and then releases it and Gabriel can only stare at him, a wave of the familiar washing over him.

The look of utter revulsion and hatred in Mohinder's eyes is not lost on Gabriel.

He can all but see Mohinder fighting the urge to wipe his touch off on his pants.

"Have we met?" Gabriel asks him and the room goes strangely quiet.

"Yes we have," Mohinder answers quickly.

Claire sensing the awkwardness of the situation, jumps up and turns to Mohinder.

"You want some coffee, a soda?"

"He's more of a tea drinker," Gabriel says more to himself then anyone else, he looks up long enough to take in their stunned expressions.

"I'm sorry…I don't know why I said that," he feels like a fool, as a hot blush starts to creep across his face.

"Tea, herbal if they have it, thank you."

Mohinder says to Claire and she smiles and gets up and goes to the door.

"Dad?"

"I'm good Claire, thanks," Bennett answers as he pulls up a chair and invites Mohinder to sit, which he does.

Bennett clears his throat and places a group of folders on the table as he sits down.

The tension in the room is thick.

Mohinder is clearly seething and Gabriel is feeling the effects of it as he shifts miserably in his seat.

Bennett turns to him and gives him a small half smile, hoping to put him at ease.

This is a big assignment but he's confident that the three of them can handle it, provided Mohinder doesn't do something rash like kill his new partner before they are even out the front gate.

He turns slightly to acknowledge Mohinder who is busy staring above Gabriel's head, refusing to look at him.

He takes a deep breath and starts, hoping the two of them will relax as he goes on.

He looks to their new field man and addresses him as he speaks.

"Gabriel, as you know tomorrow you and Mohinder here along with Claire will be going on you're very first assignment."

He slides folders over to both men.

"I am not going to sugar coat, seeing how you are all big boys here," he stresses this by throwing Mohinder a hard stare, which he shrugs off.

"Get to the point," Mohinder replies and Bennett just shakes his head and continues.

"Take a look at this face…study it, his name is Patrick Marlow and he's a problem - a big one."

They open the folders in front of them and take in the non descript middle aged guy in the photo.

"He's a damn fire bug - except this guy does it with his brain making him especially dangerous, we would prefer to contain him - but if you have to kill him before we have another problem like this," he adds as he gestures to both men to flip the page, were they are greeted with the sight of a hospital in flames, the words St. Mary's Children's Memorial barely read through the smoke and ruin.

"What sick bastard would kill a kid?" Gabriel mutters, shaking his head.

He looks up and finds that Mohinder is staring at him, burning a hole in his head as he does so.

He turns to Bennett who looks over at Mohinder, as he quickly slams the folder in front of him down and pushes back in his seat.

"I can't work with him," he says flatly as he stands, the chair in which he sits, squeaking nosily as he does so.

Gabriel turns stunned eyes on Bennett as he gets up and trails after Mohinder, who pushes past Claire as she is coming in with his tea.

"Will you wait a second," Bennett calls as Claire looks to the pair of them and then at Gabriel, who sits there watching them leave.

"What the hell happened?" She asks, setting the tea down on the table.

Gabriel turns to her, "Claire, did I - did I ever kill a child?"

"What…I…its not for me to know, I mean I wouldn't know," she stammers, taken aback by his question.

He swallows thickly and then pushes back in his seat.

"Never mind," he tells her as he gets up and goes around the table and through the door that both men had just passed through.

"Hey Gabriel, wait!" Claire calls, trailing after him as he steps out into the hallway where Bennett and Mohinder are currently engaged in a heated discussion.

"I can't do this…I can't sit in there and pretend," Mohinder is shouting and Bennett is grabbing him by the arms trying to calm him down.

"Excuse me," Gabriel says carefully, as Claire follows behind him.

Both men looked up as he approaches.

"Mohinder, right?" He starts and then stops as the other man just glares at him hatefully.

He takes a deep breath, trying to control his emotions but he feels awkward and unsure of himself.

"I realize that I may have wronged you in some way but I'm sorry for it…whatever I did and I hope we can work together now," Gabriel pauses, unsure of what to say next.

Mohinder's hot gaze is making him seriously uncomfortable, he can't seem to find his breath when he looks at him.

Mohinder is silent for a moment and then he steps up to him, gets right in his face, causing him to take a step back.

Bennett quickly jumps between them, pulling on Mohinder's arm as he does so.

"Wronged me, Gabriel," he spits out - making his name sound like a curse word, "the only wrong here I see is the fact that you get to live in blissful ignorance while the rest of us get stuck with the reminder of your sorry existence!"

"Cut it out," Bennett says, yanking him back from Gabriel.

Mohinder whirls on him, yanking his arm free as he does so.

'Don't you tell me what to do, Bennett, so help me…"

Gabriel is stunned by the viciousness of Mohinder's words, he stands there without a thing to say and he feels utterly lost, dejected.

He feels Claire tugging on his arm.

"Just give us a second," Bennett says as he steers Mohinder away.

He nods and allows Claire to pull him back towards the room. He looks to Mohinder who turns in his argument with Bennett long enough to catch his eye before he turns away, with a disgusted shake of his head.

_Why am I dreaming about him? Why does he hate me so much?_

He stumbles back into the conference room with Claire.

She closes the door behind them and watches as he leans against the wall, closing his eyes and holding his hands to his face, willing himself to breathe.

She goes to him and rubs his arm, a gesture he appreciates.

He turns to her.

"What did I do to him?"

"You really don't want to know," she says.

-------------------------

It is his first time out in the real world, in four years and he is doing his best not to gawk at everything they pass as they travel though the mid west to their target.

He thought he had been overwhelmed enough for one day while they were at the airport and was grateful that Claire had been with him. She hadn't minded when he clung to her, weary and uncomfortable with the noise or the crowds.

Gabriel sits in the back seat while Mohinder drives and Claire sits up in the passenger seat.

She is doing her best to make him feel comfortable but the uneasy glances Mohinder keeps stealing at him in the review mirror make him seriously uncomfortable.

He can feel this man's hate for him coming off him in waves.

"So- I think we should stop and eat, huh guys…Gabriel?"

Claire is turning to look at him and he looks up at her and smiles, she is so bright and cheerful and impossible not to like,

"Alright," he says quickly, though the thought of sitting somewhere with other people is strangely unnerving.

"Find us a diner, would you, Mohinder?"

She says while turning back in her seat.

Mohinder turns to her briefly and back to the road.

"I think we should wait," he says.

"Well, I'm hungry and so is Gabriel…hell, sit in the car and sulk if you need to."

Mohinder looks at her again and then at Gabriel who catches his steely gaze in the mirror and is the first to look away.

"It's - not that," Mohinder tells Claire.

"Not what?"

But, everyone in the car knows she's playing dumb and Gabriel can't help it. He grins at her remark.

"Just find us a freaking diner before I lose my cool, would you - please?"

Mohinder is irritated.

"Fine," Mohinder says, "good thing you're the bosses daughter," he adds but Claire takes the comment in stride and laughs.

"Yeah, good thing or we'd all starve to death waiting on you."

-------------------

They file into the restaurant silently with Gabriel holding the door open for everyone.

Claire thanks him but Mohinder doesn't as he steps in after them both.

Mohinder slides into a booth by the window and Claire gets in across from him with Gabriel sliding in after her.

He looks around nervously and jumps when Claire nudges his hand with a menu.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sure…just a little overwhelmed," Gabriel answers.

He looks up to see Mohinder looking at him.

"Its been awhile since I have been anywhere," he says to him and Mohinder shrugs, "not long enough," he mutters before opening his menu.

Gabriel stiffens at the coldness in those words and turns to Claire and excuses himself.

They both watch as he hurries off to the men's room.

"Cut the shit," Claire snaps at Mohinder, whispering as she does so - knowing that Gabriel could hear if he so chose.

"Excuse me," Mohinder says as he closes the menu and places it down on the table.

"Can't you just - I don't know cool it a bit - can't you see he's a nervous wreck already?"

"I can't believe you of all people would tell ME to go easy on HIM."

"Look at him would you?"

"What?"

"That's not Sylar," she tells him with a furious shake of her head.

"That is another man entirely and he's scared and he's all but been alone for **four** freaking years, he doesn't need you looking at him like you expect him to slice you're stupid head off!"

Mohinder swallows hard and looks at her, angry.

"Fine, drop it - would you, please?"

"Fine," Claire replies through gritted teeth, as the waitress comes over to get their drink orders.

Claire orders a milkshake for herself and a coffee for Gabriel.

Mohinder orders an iced tea.

They both watch her leave and then Claire turns to him, peering at him over her menu as she does so.

"You need to get over this or were going to get ourselves killed," she says wisely.

'You're relentless, know that?"

"Yeah, so I've been told…"

They look up as Gabriel approaches and Claire looks up, gives him a beaming smile.

"I ordered you a coffee, good?"

Gabriel smiles at her, "Yes, thank you."

He slides in and busies himself looking at his menu.

The tension at the table is killing him. He seriously wants to get up and head back to the car.

This is turning out to be a miserable experience for him so far. He just wants the chance to help but he feels worthless and unwanted.

The waitress grins at them as she comes back and starts handing out drinks. She asks to take their orders and Gabriel finds he can not order a freaking thing, when she turns to him. He has no appetite.

"I am going out for a walk," he says, abruptly, and hurries away from the table, nearly throwing the waitress out of his way as he heads for the door.

She stumbles back stunned and looks to the rest of the group at the table.

"We'll I for one will have the biggest cheeseburger you got," Claire tells the woman, grin held firmly in place. "extra fries and some onion rings…I'll be back," she tells Mohinder as she jumps out of the booth and goes chasing after Gabriel.

-------------

She finds him standing by the car, leaning against it with his hands over his eyes.

He hears her coming and looks up.

"Why the hell did you're father put us all together in the first place?"

"Cause he's got a twisted sense of humor," she quips, not missing a beat as she saunters over to him and leans back on the car with him.

Gabriel turns his head to her.

"Sorry - that was dumb," she says as he gives an exasperated sigh, throwing his head back as he does so.

"You know Claire, I don't remember who I was…but even still I have to live with what I did…everyday, every second and I just want a chance to make some sort of difference."

He pauses.

"I know, I can't change what I did…what ever I did to him..."

"You tried to kill me," she says quietly, from his side.

He lifts a hand from his eyes and turns to her, taken by surprise.

"Wait, what?"

She turns to him, a sad smile on her pretty face.

"You tried to kill me," she repeats, " but you killed my best friend instead, you thought she was me or rather you thought she could do what I can…but you came after me again, almost killed my mother…but you know its alright, I mean it doesn't change anything."

"I am so sorry," he says as she speaks, tears in his eyes.

"It's okay," she tells him, "that isn't who you are now…I don't see that person when I look at you now…I see a colleague, a friend and someday Mohinder will too, he just needs time."

He nods, "Do you think so?" he asks, hopeful.

"I do, I believe in second chances, Gabriel and I know you do to or else you wouldn't care so much, right?"

He nods.

"Good now come inside with me - if you're lucky, I might just share my onion rings with you."

He grins, "Deal."

She returns his grin and taps his arm, starts towards the door.

"Claire," he calls.

She turns back, "Yeah."

"Can't you just tell me what I did to him?"

She shakes her head.

'It's not my place to - that's up to him, when _he's_ ready."

Gabriel nods, not exactly thrilled at the news but able to accept it, he takes a deep breath, shrugs and follows her back inside.

_**TBC**_


	3. Like a Bad Ass

Part 3

Like a Bad Ass

A/N: _I am just having way too much with this story. I am still working on Impossible Things (but I need a bit of a break from it) Also, this story is practically writing itself, hope you like…btw, I am all but begging someone to beta me. whimper Anyone?_

Summary: _As our trio go toe to toe with their first assignment, Gabriel and Mohinder share a few "moments" along the way. _

After lunch, Claire disappeared off into the bathroom and left the two of them alone, they busied themselves finishing their meals and trying to avoid eye contact. Gabriel looked up from a sip of his coffee and found Mohinder looking at him.

Once they made eye contact; Mohinder cleared his throat and busied himself looking out the window.

Yet, for the briefest of moments there has been something strange in his eyes, something Gabriel couldn't quite grasp.

"What did you do before all this?"

Mohinder turned to him.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean – we all didn't start out here," he answered quickly.

Mohinder nodded, "that's true," he said, "I was a professor, a geneticist."

"I can see that about you," Gabriel replied, pleased that they were making some leeway. There was another look from Mohinder, a certain sadness in his eyes and Gabriel felt a wave of electricity surge through him as he found himself unable to look away from him.

He really was a good looking guy, smooth caramel colored skin, dark hair and full lips. He was actually quite beautiful but there was also a certain hardness to him, a weariness that made him very appealing.

_Maybe, too appealing, _Gabriel thought to himself as he managed to tear his gaze away and look down, feeling another blush start across his face. It was a new habit of his these days especially when he found himself on the receiving end of one Mohinder's intense stares._  
Better face facts, Gabe_, he thought to himself, _the man hates your guts, so its kind of pointless to wonder what it would be like to…_

"Why did you give that up?" Gabriel asks, more to the table then Mohinder.

Mohinder is quiet and Gabriel looks back up, thinking perhaps he hadn't heard him but it is quite clear he has, his lips are set in a thin, tight line and he is gripping the table top, his knuckles bone white.

"Are – you," Gabriel starts to ask but Mohinder just looks at him and Gabriel finds that as much as he wants to look away, he can't – he is trapped in his hot gaze.

The moment seems to stretch out forever and then Mohinder gives him a small smile, one tinged with sadness.

"You had a lot to do with that Gabriel," is all he says and it is with those words that Gabriel realizes with a sickening thud in his chest – that his relationship with this man is far more complicated then he had initially realized.

There is something between them, some spark – a shared sense of bitterness and longing and brokenness and even if he can't remember how it came to be now that Mohinder hates him, he realizes then and there, it wasn't always the case.

Gabriel goes to speak but Claire interrupts the moment as she saunters back to the group. She is dressed in jean short, shorts and flips flops. A too tight, white tank top with a giant rhinestone heart on it, complete with a lot of bare midriff is stretched tightly across her breasts. Her lips are bubblegum pink and her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail.

She strikes a pose as they both look her over, stunned.

"So, how do I look?"

"Illegal," Mohinder says and Gabriel laughs out loud.

Mohinder catches his eye and they share a small look.

"So – like a teenager?" Claire asks, pouting as she does so.

"You look hardly old enough to be that," Gabriel says smiling.

"My God, your father would kill you if he saw you in that," Mohinder tells her as he gets up with Gabriel following after them.

He goes to pay the bill as Gabriel follows Claire outside and to the car.

"So, what's with the get up?" he questions.

"I'm the distraction."

"Think it'll work?' Gabriel asks her and she turns back, grins.

"Distracted you two, didn't I?"

Gabriel just shakes his head and follows her to the car, agreeing.

----------

It is after dark by the time they get to a small nondescript suburb somewhere outside of Toledo, OH.

They park up the road and let Claire out of the car.

"Damn wedgies'," she gripes as she pulls the offending shorts out of the crack of her ass.

Gabriel laughs and Mohinder allows a smile.

"Don't you dare laugh or next time you two can dress up like some crack heads version of Lolita."

"Fine, but I am **not** wearing pigtails," Mohinder chides as Claire shuts the door and leans into window, long enough to smack his arm.

"Go do something unnatural to yourself, would you… and please for all that's holy, don't leave me standing around like a loser for too long, got it?"

They nod as she saunters up the street and towards a small, Cape Cod style house with white peeling paint and a chain link fence down at the end of the block. Mohinder turns in his seat and gestures for Gabriel to get out of the car.

They get out and go to the trunk of the car.

Mohinder leans in, removing a secreted compartment from the trunks interior. He leans in and Gabriel shields his back while Mohinder double checks their weapons and hands Gabriel his gun.

A brief look passes his eyes but he lets go of the weapon and Gabriel, quickly shoves it into the back of his pants.

They double check for nosy neighbors as they finish strapping the rest of their equipment to the inside of their clothes.

It is a task that they have been trained to do like a science. They do it in mere seconds.

The street is quiet, - but Gabriel can hear not only the sound of Claire's light whistle as she strolls down the street buying them time but also the sounds of televisions and people conversing with each other and their families inside their homes. He also picks up the irritating sound of a couple locked in a bitter fight over car taxes of all things. He tunes them all out because the last thing he needs at the moment is a splitting headache, which is what usually happens if he's uses his extrasensory hearing for too long.

He slides a long dark coat over the many items, strapped to him and watches as Mohinder does the same.

The way the coat hangs on Mohinder gives him a dark and dangerous and dare he think it a downright sexy look, one that is not lost on Gabriel.

He has to look away to keep from blushing and tries to steady his breaths as Bennett had taught him.

This is his first assignment and thinking strange and horny thoughts about the guy next you, the guy who despises you isn't exactly what he's trained to do in these situations. He gets control of himself as Mohinder slams the trunk shut and turns to him.

"Are you nervous?" Mohinder asks and Gabriel is surprised that there is no malice in his voice, only concern.

"I'm fine," he lies.

He is nervous but he's also a bit elated too.

This is his chance to prove himself and he doesn't want to screw up.

They head in the opposite direction of Claire so they can get around to the back of the house, corner him with Claire in the front and them in the back. They are as silent as a grave, seeing how this guy could roast them all like a hot day in hell if he so chose.

They have to be careful. If they spook him, it'll most likely end up pretty bad for all concerned.

"We should have waited until he's asleep," Gabriel whispers and Mohinder turns to him.

"We can't - wake him up in the middle of the night and were all dead, people have very little control over themselves in such a state, he could burn his whole house down before he even realizes."

Gabriel nods.

They are careful not to make noise as they leap over a neighbor's fence and move silently across the small, overgrown backyard. They crouch down by the basement, which is covered in thick metal chains.

They hear the doorbell ring, Claire is right on schedule. Mohinder cocks his head towards the lock and Gabriel nods, he doesn't ask how Mohinder knows he can do this, now is not the time. He places his hands over the chains and within seconds they are melted down and liquefied.

Mohinder steps back and jerks open the door, which groans under years of heavy rusting.

Gabriel cocks an ear out and catches a snippet of conversation as the man they are targeting opens the door and takes in the sight of what looks to be a pretty blonde teenager looking for a stray dog.

The man's heart is pounding and but Gabriel has developed his ability enough over the years to know that it has more to do with the skimpy outfit Claire is wearing rather then the thought of possibly being duped by the young girl standing in his doorway.

"Are we good?" Mohinder whispers and Gabriel nods, "yeah," he says as he follows Mohinder down into the damp basement.

This guy is obviously not a cleaner, there are boxes and boxes of things down here, all reeking of decay and mildew. Mohinder gestures towards the stairs and they start up them, stopping as they creak under their combined weight.

Mohinder turns back and puts an arm up, stopping Gabriel.

This brief touch sends a shiver through Gabriel and he visibly trembles as Mohinder moves his hand away and turns to him.

Gabriel gives another quick listen and hears Claire, thanking him for being so sweet and the man is asking her if he can get her a soda.

Time in running out for Claire, she needs to keep him by the damn door. She is trying, feigning something about having to get home.

The guy however is getting pushy and insistent. _Great, _he thinks, not only is he a sick pyro, but he also likes his girls a little _too_ young

"We got to do this now, Mohinder," Gabriel hisses under his breath as they reach the top of the basement stairs. Mohinder is cautious as he opens the door. He quickly eases the door back and turns to Gabriel, motioning for quiet as he does so but Gabriel can hear Claire trailing the man through living room.

It is connected to the small kitchen by a rather large archway.

The man is standing at the archway, his eyes level to the door that is now slightly ajar. He doesn't seem to notice but Claire does.

Mohinder watches as she pauses in front of some garish painting above the mantel and comments on it, bringing the man's attention away from the door and back to her.

The man stops and turns back and goes over to her and as he steps towards her, she pulls a small syringe out from her back pocket and as he gets closer, she moves her arm around as to stab him with it in the throat, hoping to give him enough of a dose that he'll be in a near coma until the clean up crew gets there and sends him back to headquarters for observation.

However, the man, a one Patrick Marlowe surprises everyone by grabbing her hand and spinning her around so that she is in front of him with his arm lodged firmly against her throat.

The syringe drops, unused from her hand.

"Come out," the man shouts, obviously realizing that he and Claire are know longer the only ones in the house.

Claire tries to head butt him but she's too short and he's much bigger and stronger, grunting she throws her foot back to crack his shins but he manages to deflect the blow. "You're pretty feisty," he breathes into her ear, his breath hot and rank, "I like that baby!"

"Drop dead, shit head," she growls.

His response is to throttle her harder, shaking her in front of him like an offering.

"Don't make me set this pretty, little bitch on fire," He challenges and Mohinder turns to Gabriel and starts towards the door but Gabriel reaches out and seizes his arm and pulls him back.

"Let me go," Gabriel says.

"No," Mohinder replies.

Gabriel is insistent, he tugs him back from the door.

"You don't really have much choice seeing how you don't have a chance in hell of getting that guy to fight you without powers, come in from the front, if you get the opportunity, shoot the bastard in the foot, I'll get Claire."

Mohinder takes a moment and then nods and starts down the stairs, pushing past Gabriel as he does so.

"Watch yourself," he whispers, turning back to Gabriel and a slow sense of elation fills him, "you too," he replies.

He opens the door and steps into what is a positively disgusting kitchen, through the kitchen is Patrick Marlow, holding a struggling and pissed off Claire in his iron grip.

"Alright!" Gabriel says, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

"You got me – so do us all a favor and let the girl go."

Patrick eye's narrow into mean slits as he squeezes Claire all the tighter, making her purple with lack of oxygen.

Still, she doesn't give up, she tries again to kick him but he only chokes her harder. She keeps her eyes trained on Gabriel, counting on him to get this creep and _fast_.

"I don't think so, see me and goldilocks here are going to have us a little fun once I am done dealing with you."

Gabriel nods, a dark look in his eyes and Claire sees for the briefest of moments, _Sylar_.

Then it's gone as if that predatory glint had not been there at all as she finds herself trying to focus her gaze on her shy, nervous friend Gabriel.

Except in this moment, he looks anything but nervous.

He looks like he's ready to start handing this guy his ass on a platter.

"Last chance, because I'm telling you you're **not **going to like what I can dish out," Gabriel tells him.

Claire almost smiles as his cool confidence even in the midst of this foul smelling pervert choking her to near unconsciousness.  
_Hell, if Sylar is in there even for a hot, split second then this rancid smelling bastard is going wish he had gone down a lot quieter,_ Claire thinks to her self.

"How 'bout no?"

Gabriel smiles and gestures to Claire,

"Alright then, but let her go first - then me and you."

There is a sneer on the Patrick's face as he roughly shoves Claire to the floor and she falls on her side with a thud as Patrick closes his eyes for a moment and then there is a bright light and Boom!

A huge fireball the size of a basketball goes sailing through the air towards Gabriel who holds out a confident hand and sends a wall of ice towards it, freezing it into a ball of ash that drops harmlessly to the floor.

Patrick stares at him opened mouth as he sends another three fireballs towards Gabriel, he manages to freeze two but the third sails past him and explodes into the kitchen cabinets above his head, setting the kitchen instantly ablaze.

The blast sends Gabriel to his knees and through the smoke, he hears a single shot. He climvs to his feet and and makes his way through the suffocating blackness and into the living room.

He finds Patrick Marlow falling to his knees with a gunshot wound to the thigh.

Mohinder stands behind him, a smoking gun trained on him.

Claire takes the opportunity to grab the fallen syringe and plunge it into Patrick Marlowe's neck as he falls face first onto the carpet, out for the count.

Gabriel looks to the both of them and then to the smoking kitchen.

"You better put that out," Mohinder says, holstering his weapon, but there is a smile on his face as he says it and Gabriel returns the kitchen to do just that.

Claire gets up, dusting herself off as she does so and takes in the prone figure on the floor, kicking him for good measure.

"Hope you enjoy prison, you bastard!"

She looks up at Mohinder who is looking over towards the kitchen were Gabriel had disappeared to.

Already the smoke is clearing.

"How did he handle himself?" Mohinder asks, gesturing towards Gabriel.

"Like a total bad ass," she says and smiles.

_**TBC **_


	4. Revelations

Chapter 4

Revelations

Summary: _After their first assignment, Our trio decides to celebrate at a near by bar but things get complicated when everyone has a little too much to drink…_

After bringing down Patrick Marlow and the blaze in the kitchen that he had left in his wake, Mohinder got on his cell phone and started checking in with the cleaning crew. They were on their way; Gabriel busied himself wrapping up the Patrick Marlow's wound and making sure he didn't bleed to death while Claire got on her cell to check her messages. He watched as she listened to a voice mail, her face darkening and her expression pained.

Gabriel looked up at Mohinder as Claire checked the number again and listened to the message once more. She caught Gabriel's watchful eye and held up a finger, indicating she would be a minute as she moved down a long hallway towards the back of the house.

Gabriel knew something was not right and he knew it was wrong to listen in on what was surely a private conversation, but he gave into temptation, worried that he might have done something wrong and now Claire was getting an earful for it.

"_Hey Claire, its Peter…listen, I heard from Bennett about your new partner and uh, how's Mohinder? I tried calling him but…anyway, yeah just wanted to check in and um, I just want to make sure he's okay with everything– just, yeah Claire do me a favor and have him call me_."

As Claire shut the phone with a sigh and came back into the living room, Gabriel pretended not to notice the exasperated look on her face, and busied himself cleaning up bandages.

Mohinder was finishing up his conversation when Claire came up beside him and made a motion with her hand, indicating that she wanted him to wrap up the call.

"Give me a second?" Mohinder said into the phone and then turned to Claire.

"What is it?"

"Call Peter, would you?" she said, her voice a low, heated whisper.

Mohinder looked over to Gabriel, who quickly looked away and then back to Claire.

He sighed as if it was the last thing he felt like doing.

"Alright," he said, and Claire nodded and went over to Gabriel to help.

It took the clean-up crew a couple of hours to come and get Patrick Marlow.

In the meanwhile, Gabriel watched as Mohinder called this Peter person back and spent a good hour or so in a back bedroom having a strained and heated conversation with him. Claire kept sneaking glances at Gabriel no doubt wondering if Gabriel was listening in.

But as curious as he was, Gabriel didn't. It just seemed wrong to intrude on Mohinder like that and he didn't want the man to have anymore of a reason to dislike him. He wanted to ask Claire who Peter was, but didn't dare. He was just grateful when the clean-up crew showed and they were able to give them their statements and leave. Gabriel figured that he, along with Mohinder and Claire, would be heading back to headquarters as well, but apparently Bennett had another assignment in the works; they were given debriefing folders and told to expect a call sometime in the next two days.

Mohinder shrugged weary shoulders and turned to Claire. "I guess we better find someplace to sleep," he told her.

She nodded and took Gabriel's arm, "Sounds good," she replied as they started off in search of a nearby motel.

It was an obvious hole in the wall but cheap enough for them to all have adjacent rooms.

Claire had made them stop for some pizza (her treat) and invited them into her room to eat with her. Gabriel had gone back to his room first to shower, seeing how he was covered in soot, but since his room was next door to Claire's he could hear her talking to Mohinder through the bathroom wall.

"What did Peter want?" Claire asked him.

"He was just checking in," Mohinder answered reluctantly.

"Do you miss him?"

Mohinder must have moved away from her because of what Claire said next, "Hey, don't leave Mohinder, I just…he's been a mess since you left," she continued.

"That was years and years ago, Claire…it just didn't work."

"He still cares," Claire said, "so do you."

"I am not having this discussion with you, Claire so just drop it."

Claire let it go but Gabriel just stood there, feeling more than a little jealous of this Peter person, who was obviously Mohinder's ex-lover and a friend of Claire's. Whoever Peter was, Gabriel was kind of secretly pleased that he and Mohinder were no longer together. Not that it left him in any position to entertain the sure crush he was starting to develop, considering that Mohinder hated him and all but it was a start.

It had been Claire's suggestion that they get out for awhile as sitting around waiting for a phone call that didn't appear to be forthcoming was awkwardto say the least. Claire had proposed the idea of going out for drinks and Gabriel hadn't wanted to go, seeing as he had way too much on his mind at present, but Claire had a way of getting people to do what she wanted. She was persuasive,say the least.

So here they were at some dive bar, one within walking distance of the sleazy motel. Gabriel sat at the bar while Claire whooped and hollered on the dance floor, three tequilas under her belt and feeling pretty good as she danced from one cowboy to the other. Mohinder seemed equally uneasy as he sat down next to Gabriel and together they drank in uncomfortable silence.

The air between them filled with almost unbearable tension that no amount of alcohol could help ease. The alcohol was, however, making Gabriel slightly woozy. He couldn't remember the last time he had drunk anything of the kind, having lived on an almost steady diet of coffee for years now. He leaned forward on the bar and rested his chin in his hands, sneaking a quick look at Mohinder's profile. The other man was clearly doing his best to ignore him.

Gabriel took another swig of his beer, finishing it and ordering another one.

He was glad things went fairly smooth today, glad he was able to distract Marlow long enough for Mohinder to get a shot in, but something was troubling him, something gnawing him ever so slightly.

Something about Mohinder and himself…something he is on the verge of grasping but couldn't. The answer just ever so slightly out of reach.

Gabriel's drink arrived and he wasted no time in nearly draining it. He figured if he kept drinking, he might just have the courage to say what he wanted to say to Mohinder. He shook his head, trying to clear it when he felt someone clap him on the back. He looked up and it was only Mohinder.

"I am going for a walk," he said and Gabriel felt a bit hurt that he hadn't asked him to join him. He nodded, feeling quite drunk by now and, puts his head back on the bar as Mohinder leaves. He laid there for a while, pausing only long enough to swig his beer bottle to his lips. Empty now, he slammed it down on the counter.

"And how are you feeling tonight?"

Gabriel turned his head and took in a slim-hipped blonde guy with a bright smile, drunken eyes, and too-tight blue jeans.

The guy plopped down in Mohinder's empty seat.

"Buy you a drink?" The guy asked and Gabriel shrugged. The guy ordered them each another beer and turned to Gabriel with a wide grin.

"I go by Jimmy, you?"

"I'm Gabriel," he slurred as he clicked bottles with the guy and took a long gulp of his drink.

"So you look like the kind of man drinking to forget something, someone…"

Gabriel stiffened at those words, "Maybe I'm drinking to remember," he mumbled into the neck of the bottle.

The guy hadn't heard him; he was pretty far gone too as he leaned over and draped himself across Gabriel's back, whispering into his ear.

"You trying to forget a woman?" he asked and Gabriel shook his head. He took a whiff of the guy's cologne and something stirred inside him, he was picking up serious vibes from the guy. Gabriel turned in his seat so they could make eye contact and an intense stare down ensused between them as implications were made perfectly clear.

He must be drunk; if Gabriel was sober he'd never have had the courage to act upon anything of this sort.

"No, not a woman," Gabriel answered carefully and Jimmy smiled, nodding knowingly.

_You're really drunk, aren't you…what the hell are you doing Gabriel? Are- are you flirting?_

"I haven't got much use for women myself," Jimmy replied.

"Yeah, me too," he said, realizing that he was almost uncomfortably horny. Hell, he didn't even remember the last time he's had sex or truth be told, even if he ever had – but he ached for something, _someone_ and he was pretty drunk, and he had been thinking about Mohinder all day long.

_Who the hell is Peter? Was Mohinder in love with him? It's obvious he's in love with Mohinder…but who wouldn't be? Who wouldn't gladly fall…._

"You want to take a walk?" _Well at least someone asked me,_ Gabriel thought bitterly before finishing his drink with one hard swallow, "Yeah, sure do," he said, getting off the stool. The room was spinning a bit and he was decidedly drunk; it was a sensation he rather enjoyed.

When he caught Claire's eye, she and some young guy were dancing cheek to cheek to something decidedly sappy and country. She shot him a, 'Are you okay?' look to which he nodded as that guy Jimmy steadied him by his waist, a touch that sent a jab straight through Gabriel.

They got outside and the cold air was a bit of a shock. Gabriel stumbled but didn't fall as the guy continued to hold him upright while they made their way across the parking lot.

"Is the backseat alright?" Jimmy asked, breathing the question against Gabriel's ear.

He almost laughed out loud at this guy's obvious eagerness but didn't.

Instead, Gabriel bit back a giggle as Jimmy leaned him up against some shitty Buick parked out in the back of the lot and started fiddling with the lock, sneaking looks at him to make sure he wasn't going to fall over. Jimmy opened the door and pushed him inside.

Gabriel slid in, long legs splayed out, and Jimmy climbed in after him, closing the door behind them. Gabriel went to speak but Jimmy only smiled and grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him roughly to him.

Then before Gabriel could catch his breath, he was being kissed and hard.

Jimmy was half straddling him as Gabriel was pressed firmly into the back of the seats.

He was drunk but feeling pretty good as he responded to the other guy's advances, returning each kiss with one of his own.

Gabriel reached up to touch his face, carefully. It was slightly awkward as he tried to return each hard kiss with his own tentative mouth, trying to get a feel for it.

This Jimmy person was kind of aggressive but Gabriel found he really didn't mind all that much. He settled back into the seat and pulled Jimmy closer to his own body.

Wow, it was a good thing he hadn't remembered how good kissing was or he would have gone crazy over the last few years. He was too far gone to care that he was in the backseat of some stranger's car, with the other guy slipping his hand down his pants. He wants this, needs it - connections, a touch - affection at whatever cost.

_I never want to stop kissing you_

It was a single thought but it popped into Gabriel's head before he could stop it. He put his hands up and pushed Jimmy off him.

"What's the matter?"

Gabriel turned his head away as Jimmy continued to trail kisses down the side of his face, his hands reaching for and unbuckling Gabriel's pants but Gabriel was distracted now and drunk and…

_Who said that? Did I say that… when? To who?_

He grabbed Jimmy's hand and pushed him off him, more forcefully this time.

"Cut it out, I- I can't," he stammered, as he reached for the door handle and went to open the door.

"Aw, come on man, what the hell?" Jimmy started protesting as he grasped Gabriel by the back of his shirt and tried to haul him back.

Gabriel turned and grabbed him by the throat, so suddenly that he took them both by surprise. He threw Jimmy up against the seat and in one swift move pinning him there.

"Touch me again and I'll feed you your fucking throat, understand?" he growled.

Jimmy nodded furiously; something dark and violent in Gabriel's immense eyes that made him take that threat very seriously.

Then Gabriel blinked and saw what he was doing, how he was all but strangling the guy. He let Jimmy go, shuddering as he did so – for a moment there, he hadn't even known what he was doing or why, or even if he was still in the car.

_I never want to stop kissing you…_

He released the man from his grip and jumped out the car, nearly running as he did so, leaving the other guy behind, glued to his seat and shaking all over.

Claire was up at the bar doing her fifth shot of the night and chasing it back with a beer when Mohinder came over, angry and grabbed her arm.

"Where is he?"

"Who?" she said, peering at him with bleary eyes, her expression making it quite clear that she was more than little inebriated.

"Who do you think?"

"Oh," she replied, smirking.

"I run back to my room for a minute and I've come back to see that you're drunk and he's run off somewhere."

"Nah, he's just getting some, he'll be back…" she said with a giggle and then she leaned over the bar, flagging down the bartender.

"Bartender, get my friend a beer, would you?"

The bartender smiled at her and slid one over to Mohinder.

"Get some what?" he grumbled as he fished out money and slammed it down on the counter.

He turned back to find her looking at him as if he had just crawled out of a hole somewhere.

"Are you always so dense?"

"Apparently when I'm trying to converse with people who are over served, Claire," he answered, sighing with annoyance.

"Okay, let me break it down for you: our reformed serial killer just got lucky – not ten minutes before, he stumbled outside, draped all over some good looking guy in the worlds tightest blue jeans…and I for one say good for him, 'cause I'm willing to bet he hasn't gotten laid in at least four really long years."

Mohinder made a face and sat his drink down on the bar, started towards the door. But before he could Claire went after him, getting in front.

"What the hell are you doing Mohinder?"

"Obviously, you're a lot more drunk then I thought, Claire because you just let him go off – with a complete stranger, while he's under the influence ."

"And… what's the problem, that'll he'll get hurt? Are we talking about the same guy here, seriously he's drunk and horny," she paused for air, "and pretty damn good looking, if you ask me, it was only a matter of time."

"You don't have to tell me how good looking he is," Mohinder muttered under his breath with a grimace as he stepped past her and outside.

Claire trailed behind as they stepped out into the cold night air. She was feeling a bit woozy and this whole strange scenario had her a little off kilter.

Mohinder was trudging through the parking lot fast, checking cars as he did, moving back towards the motel.

Claire jogged up to him, irritated.

"I don't get you Mohinder," she said, the cold sobering her up some.

Mohinder paused long enough to throw her an annoyed glance.

"You act as if you hate the guy and then next thing you know – you're chasing after him like some wronged boyfriend."

The words hit Mohinder hard.

"Just leave it alone," he told her flatly.

"No, I want to know what's up with you two…I know there is something more to it than the fact that he killed your father," she continued, and Mohinder exhaled sharply and looked away from her. He started off, leaving her behind.

"He's the reason you left Peter, isn't it he?"

Mohinder stopped and turned back, stunned. "What did you say?"

"I said, he's the reason why you and my uncle never made it work – he told me it was because you were still hung up on someone, and we both know who it was, don't we?"

"Claire, leave it alone," he all but pleaded with her, starting away from her once again.

Her words brought forth a whole slew of memories he had spent years trying to erase.

"I know what you tried to do to yourself in New York, Mohinder…"

"Stop!"

She does and looks down as she can hear him struggling for breath, tears coursing down his face and his whole body shaking as he tries to get control himself, failing.

Claire put her hand to her face and looks away for a moment and then back at him.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to push, it's just that..."

Mohinder just turned and rested his head against his arm, leaned against the side of the building.

She came up to him and laid a shaking hand on his back.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

Mohinder turned his head, looked at her.

He didn't answer, but every weary line in his face did, as did the sadness in his eyes.

He turned and started away from her, unable to speak; Claire found she could nothing but stare at his retreating back as he hurried away from her.

_**TBC**__  
_


	5. Breaking Point

Chapter 5

Breaking Point

Summary: _While, Gabriel makes a late night decision to confront Mohinder - a new deadlier threat looms on the horizon._

Mohinder had gone back to his room after his confrontation with Claire. He kicked his shoes across the room and tried his best to stop the whirl of thoughts raging inside his head.

Mohinder wanted out of this assignment. He wanted back the safe, comfortable world he had managed to create for himself, one being seriously threatened by having to look at _him _every day now.

Mohinder considered getting Bennett on the phone and having it out with him, but he knew any complaints would fall on deaf ears.

There was no point to it. He was stuck in this situation, stuck with Sylar or Gabriel or whatever he called himself these days. It all added up to the fact that Mohinder was still being forced to look at that _face_.

Mohinder had spent so much of his very sanity trying to erase it from his mind to no avail; now Mohinder was being forced to be near him, see him, and it was killing him inside.

Mohinder threw himself on the bed, stared up at the cracked, discolored ceiling and waited for a sleep he knew would not be forthcoming anytime soon.

Mohinder was too busy being angry with himself, for having allowed both Claire and Gabriel to push him far enough to lose control of his emotions.

Yet, if Gabriel hadn't run off like that and left him to deal with Claire and her insistence, her wheedling the truth out of him, none of it would have happened in the first place.

He hadn't told her, not the full truth, but she must have known. Claire had said as much and here Mohinder had hoped he had been clever, had hidden it deep enough, but it seemed now to be not nearly deep enough.

Maybe Bennett knew as well and was testing him. Whatever the case, it was beyond cruel forcing him to work face to face now with the man who had destroyed so much of his life.

Suddenly, Mohinder was startled from his reverie by a hard, insistent knock on his door. Mohinder sat up, sighed.

He really did not want to deal with Claire and her apologies but she was the kind of person who wouldn't just give up and go away.

Another hard knock indicated as much as Mohinder sighed with annoyance once more and swung his legs off the side of the bed.

"Hang on," Mohinder called as he got up and went to the door, throwing it open.

It wasn't Claire.

It was Gabriel, standing there reeking of booze, hair disheveled and clothing mussed, no doubt the result of his encounter with the person he had left the bar with.

A person who the very idea of Gabriel with filled Mohinder with an unwelcome mix of emotions.

"What is it?"

Mohinder knew his voice was harsher then it needed to be but he didn't care. It had taken too much effort already to maintain any sort of a calm persona in front of Gabriel, especially now that his nerves were stretched almost to the breaking point.

Gabriel tried to meet his eyes but finding only the hard, annoyed glare of Mohinder's own, looked as if he wanted to slink away into the shadows and simply disappear from sight.

"What?" Mohinder asked again, this time his voice was a bit shrill, his annoyance very obvious.

Gabriel turned to him, tears swimming in his eyes as he struggled with the words he wanted to say.

Gabriel took a deep breath and locked eyes with the man before him and willed himself not to look away.

"What did I do to you?"

The words were like a hard slap in the face.

Mohinder stepped back and just looked at Gabriel as a sort of icy numbness started to creep across his body and settle in his gut.

"Why are you asking me that?" Mohinder managed to say, his voice hard but trembling, giving away his obvious nervousness over the question.

"Please I just, I need to know," Gabriel all but pleaded with him.

His dark eyes peered into Mohinder's own, desperate for an answer.

"You're drunk," Mohinder replied, coldly.

"Go back to your room, sleep it off," he told Gabriel callously.

Mohinder started to close the door, ready to lock him out, unable to face either the sight of him or his questions a moment longer.

But Gabriel stuck a foot out, stopping the door and pushing it open.

He stepped closer and into the doorframe, inches from Mohinder who became incensed by this sudden invasion of personal space.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I never want to stop kissing you," Gabriel said quietly, his eyes - the intensity of them-never leaving Mohinder's face.

He watched as Mohinder blanched visibly at those words.

It was all the proof that Gabriel needed, he knew now with a gut wrenching certainty that once he had been with this man and things had ended badly; he needed to know why.

"It was you - wasn't it?" Gabriel went on, his voice a mere whisper, "I said that to you-why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did I stop?"

Gabriel asked and blinked, causing the unshed tears in his eyes to spill as he looked down, shuddering as he did so.

Mohinder just looked at him, wishing the floor would swallow him up, he'd do anything to not have to face him now.

That _face_, those questions and those words, words that had slammed him straight into the past and left him there, shaken and terrified.

Mohinder didn't know who this man before him was or even if he knew himself.

Mohinder wanted to cry but he couldn't, the tears caught and lodged firmly in his throat. He tried to remain calm, not wanting to let the small nugget of fear Gabriel's words had instilled in him cause him to lose the air of control he needed to project.

_Why does he remember that? Of all things… why that? _

Gabriel looked up slowly when Mohinder didn't answer, saw a wealth of tangled emotions behind his beautiful eyes.

Gabriel looked away again, wiping away tears.

He felt small and foolish standing there, still dizzy from the liquor and sick to his stomach over what had happened with Jimmy.

The truth was he was scared; he had scared himself.

There was darkness in him, he could feel it and the last thing Gabriel wanted was for that darkness to come back and overtake him.

"I hate not knowing what I have done…I hate not remembering why it is…why things are the way they are between us…I spent years dreaming about you…only to find you, only to have you hate the very sight of me, and why tonight…tonight, I was with someone and I…couldn't - because all I could think about was…"

"Just stop," Mohinder said.

Gabriel looked at him and nodded, a pained and stricken expression on his face as he realized he had said too much, crossed a line.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel murmured softly, backing up, suddenly realizing how close they were.

"You have a lot to be sorry for…don't knock on my door again, ever! Not for this." Mohinder told him angrily as he backed up and slammed the door in Gabriel's face, turning the lock firmly into place as he did so.

Gabriel just stared at the door for several seconds, leaned his head against it and tried to steady his breathing. His heart beating wild and frantic against his rib cage before he took a step back from the door, gave it one last, long, lingering look before he turned back to his own room, defeated.

-----

Gabriel woke up to somebody pounding on his door, his whole body hurt and his head throbbed with a splitting headache, groaning he stumbled up and out of bed and made his way to the door, nearly cracking a shin on a chair.

He hobbled over to the door, cursing both the chair and the throbbing headache.

He looked down at himself, realized he was still in last night clothes, he shook his head and opened the door, running a quick hand through his mussed up hair as he did so.

Claire stood there in gray sweatpants and a black hooded sweatshirt, she looked worn out and disheveled.

"Morning Sunshine," she said dryly.

"Morning," he replied, reaching down to massage the sure bruise no doubt already forming.

"Rough start?"

Claire asked raising an eyebrow as she pushed her way in, handing him a cup of coffee.

"Yeah, something like that," Gabriel said absently as he straightened.

Claire turned to him, grinned and lifted her cup to her lips, sipped.

"Yeah, well this place may be an absolute dump, but at least there's free coffee."

"Yeah, thanks for this by the way," Gabriel said, raising the cup to her.

"Your welcome," she replied.

Claire looked him over, noticed he was still in last night clothes and looked quite the wreck- not that she figured she looked any better.

"You look like how I feel," she groaned as she tossed herself on his bed.

Gabriel closed the door and stepped back into the room.

"I think I had too much to drink," Gabriel admitted as he sipped his coffee.

"You and me both," Claire said, "Remind me to lay off the tequila next time, would you?"

"Yeah, definitely," Gabriel said as he plopped down in an overstuffed chair by the window.

"So, have a good time last night?"

Gabriel looked at her and then looked away as the events of last night suddenly flooded over him, bringing with them embarrassment and shame.

"Ah, not really," Gabriel answered, carefully.

"Oh," Claire said, "that bad huh?"

"Something like that," he said as he tried to make his voice sound as noncommittal as possible.

Gabriel sipped at his coffee, having nothing better to do with his nervous hands.

He could feel Claire's gaze as she watched him, and he looked up.

"Why are you staring at me?"

Claire shrugged, "You didn't uh, hear anything last night?"

"Like what?"

Gabriel asked confused by the look on her face, he could tell she was trying to gauge his reaction, see if he had told her the truth.

"Oh nothing important," Claire answered vaguely and then shrugged.

There was silence for a moment and then she turned to him.

"Well, no one has called yet and I am all sorts of restless," Claire said as she scooted off the bed.

"Go take a shower or something and meet me outside, this coffee is absolute shit, I need the real deal."

"Yeah, sounds like a good idea," Gabriel told her, setting the cup down on the table beside him.

He stood, heading for the bathroom.

"Gabriel," she called after him and he turned back to look at her.

"Yeah," Gabriel answered.

"Are you alright?"

Claire's voice was tentative and unsure as she met his eyes.

Gabriel smiled at her, but the smile was forced and hesitant.

He chuckled and waved it off.

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"I'm fine, I have a headache, probably just a hangover," he told her.

"You sure?"

Gabriel went over to her.

"What's with the questions, Claire - did I do - something?"_You did a lot of something's idiot, like getting too drunk to realize that knocking on Mohinder's door was a bad fucking idea for starters._

"No of course not," Claire answered quickly, "I was just making sure."

"Alright, I'm going to jump in the shower now."

"Probably do me a world of good," Gabriel added.

"Well, alright then, I better go wake Mohinder and see if he's wants to come along," Claire said as she stopped at the door.

"You two getting on any better?"

Gabriel took a moment before answering, all but sure that his face was bright red as he mentally kicked himself once again for his late night decision to knock on Mohinder's door and confront him.

"I guess so," Gabriel shrugged, hoping Claire couldn't too read much into the stricken look on his face.

"That's good," Claire replied as she opened the door, "See you in ten," she said.

"Sure thing," Gabriel replied, as the thought of having to now face Mohinder made him feel sick to his stomach.

------------

After Gabriel had finished getting dressed, he felt a lot better at least physically. The coffee had helped but his stomach was twisted up in painful knots nevertheless.

How could he have been so stupid, he wondered, what the hell had he been thinking knocking on Mohinder's door like that.

Gabriel thought back to the previous night's events, all of which were a fuzzy haze.He remembered sitting at the bar beside Mohinder.

He had just wanted to talk to him, with him, but Mohinder had left and then he had met that guy, Jimmy, and God! What the hell had he been thinking going off with him like that and then physically hurting him.

Why had he hurt him like that?

Gabriel grimaced at the thought of the man he once was, a man he had no recollection of being and never wanted to be again.

He opened the door of his room and stepped out into the bright sunshine to find Mohinder and Claire engaged in a heated discussion by the car.

They clammed up the minute they spotted Gabriel.

Mohinder turned away from him and got into the car, slamming the driver's side door as he did so, and Claire jogged over to Gabriel, her best bright smile on her pretty face.

"He's pissing me off," she told him, with a slight shake of her head, "Get in the front with him, would you?"

Gabriel glanced over her shoulder and saw that Mohinder was watching him. When they made eye contact, Mohinder looked away and started the car.

"What's going on?" He asked, wondering if Claire knew about him knocking on Mohinder's door last night.

"He and I…well, we kind of had a situation last night," Claire answered carefully as Mohinder honked and gestured for them to get a move on.

Claire turned around and held up a finger.

"For god sake, give us a minute!" Claire shouted and then turned back to Gabriel.

"He looks pretty ticked off, Claire," Gabriel said, "I doubt, I am the last person in the world he wants that close to him."

"He'll get over it, I hope," she added, "Anyway, just uh, stay out of his way if you can…one of us is getting shot today…better me than you," she told him.

Gabriel allowed a smirk.

"How in the hell is getting in the front seat, going to keep me from getting shot?"

"'Cause, I am willing to bet that today he likes you more then me."

Gabriel chuckled at the thought.

"You know, Mohinder doesn't just shoot people," Gabriel said, with a smirk as he stepped past Claire, heading towards the car.

"You'd be surprised," Claire grumbled, trailing after him.

_Might as well get it over with…_

"Good morning," he said as he opened the passenger side door and slid in.

Mohinder looked up and met his eyes, then turned away.

"Morning," he replied, more to the steering wheel then Gabriel himself.

_Back at headquarters…_

"Wait a second this guy can do what?"

Bennett looked up at Matt, who was sitting across the desk at him, wearing an incredulous look.

"Kill by touch alone," Bennett said, closing the file before him and sliding it away from himself.

"Holy shit, how in the hell does he do that?"

Bennett sighed and leaned across the table putting his head in his hands.

He was exhausted, there was always something going on, always a new threat.

Bennett figured he hadn't slept more then three hours a night in three years and it was taking its toll.

He lifted his head up, removing his glasses and cleaning them off with a handkerchief.

"He can draw oxygen out of a person, suffocating them…bastard's used this neat little trick on at least ten women in the New York City area."

"So, why in the hell haven't we gone after the psycho already?"

"Because," Bennett said, "we didn't know - took us bringing in the one person who survived an attack, a girl like my Claire that we figured it out."

"Shit," Matt said, shaking his head, "imagine that."

"Yeah," Bennett said as he slid his glasses back on, "Problem is we only have a vague description of the guy right now."

"So you are sending them to New York?"

"Yeah, and I am having Peter Petrelli come in with them on it."

Bennett noticed the look on Matt's face.

"What is it now?"

He didn't even bother to hide the annoyance in his voice this time.

"Nothing 'cept the fact you obviously have it in for Suresh."

"Excuse me?"

"Bennett, for god sakes! Peter and Mohinder were you know - a - uh couple, didn't end so well from what I heard."

Bennett just shook his head, groaning.

"Is everything a soap opera, around here?"

"Look, I'm not writing this shit Bennett but…you really should try and take peoples feelings into consideration once in awhile."

Bennett raised an eyebrow, "Oh really, we have a serial killer out there killing defenseless women and leaving no evidence and you want me to worry about Mohinder's feelings."

"You ask a lot of him," Matt added quietly, as Bennett shot him another hard glare.

Matt threw his hands up, "Fine, listen I was just saying - you know he already has to deal with Sylar or Gabriel or whoever and now Petrelli."

"Suresh is a grown man, he will deal."

"Yeah, good luck with that one," Matt said, under his breath, "You better hope when he comes back he doesn't shoot you in the foot."

Bennett sighed and lowered his head to his desk. He needed a vacation from this place in the worst way.


	6. Never Again

Part 6

Never Again

Summary: _A phone call from Bennett brings tensions to a head as the group gets their next assignment and heads off to New York to meet Peter._

AN: As always, a huge thank you to my beta Motsureru.

Breakfast had started off with Gabriel, Mohinder and Claire crowded into a booth, making stilted conversation while trying to choke down scrambled eggs and coffee.

And it ended with Mohinder in the parking lot, screaming at Bennett through Claire's cell phone.

Gabriel had gone to the men's room, and when he came back out, the table they had occupied was empty. Gabriel looked around for Mohinder and Claire, finally spying them through the plate glass window.

The situation he saw looked anything but good.

Claire was shouting at Mohinder, while Mohinder paced back and forth, alternating between yelling at Claire and screaming into the cell phone he had clutched to his ear.

Gabriel figured he had better get out there before they started attracting attention. He quickly threw some bills on the table and hurried outside, as Claire as she yelling at Mohinder to hand her the "goddamn phone."

Gabriel hurried up to them in two quick strides, took Claire by the arm and hauled her back.

Mohinder took the opportunity to turn away from the two of them and start heading in the opposite direction, still engaged in his heated discussion with who was ever on the phone.

"You're being an asshole!" Claire shouted at his retreating back.

"Hey! What the hell happened?" Gabriel asked, turning Claire towards him.

Claire pushed a lock of hair from her eyes, huffing as she did so.

"Oh, nothing except Mohinder figured we hadn't had enough drama lately and has decided to go ballistic on my father!"

Gabriel turned in Mohinder's direction, catching portions of his argument with Bennett.

"This is unacceptable," Mohinder seethed, "do you hear me, Bennett - I have had enough of this!…and don't you dare tell me to act like a professional!"

"He's really pissed," Gabriel muttered as he turned back to Claire.

"You think?" Claire grumbled.

"Well, what the hell is he so mad about?" Gabriel asked, confused.

"It's a long story," Claire answered reluctantly, "but it involves us all being on the next flight to New York City."

"_And_ - Mohinder is freaking out because -"

"Because when we land - we will be meeting up with someone he's not exactly excited to see."

"Whose that?"

"My Uncle Peter," Claire finally answered, sighing loudly as she did so.

_Peter Petrelli? _

"Oh," Gabriel whispered, feeling as if someone had let all the air out of his lungs.

"Peter's a great guy," Claire went on, "but he and Mohinder…they parted on bad terms and Mohinder has been all but ignoring him ever since."

"Peter and Mohinder…."

"They lived together," Claire said carefully as she studied Gabriel's sickened expression.

"Oh," Gabriel muttered yet again, feeling incredibly stupid.

_Oh this should be fun…meeting the guy who's__still in love with Mohinder…_

"I think I should ask to be reassigned, I'm causing enough stress," Gabriel told her.

"No," Claire told him flatly, "you're good at what you do and furthermore, you're good company."

Gabriel went to speak but stopped as they both looked up to see Mohinder approach.

He handed the phone over to Claire.

"Here talk to your father," Mohinder told her brusquely, before he turned and started away.

Claire took the phone, rolling her eyes as she did so.

Gabriel looked to her and then to Mohinder's retreating back, and decided to go after him.

"Hang on a second Mohinder," Gabriel called after him as he took hold of Mohinder's arm.

It was the wrong move - Mohinder spun around and grabbed Gabriel's hand, shoving him back so hard he nearly fell.

"Don't touch me," Mohinder hissed as Gabriel straightened and looked at him.

There were tears in Mohinder's eyes, though his expression remained hard.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel replied, "I only wanted to make sure you were alright."

Those words seemed to only anger Mohinder further as he stormed up to Gabriel and got in his face, forcing the other man to back up in response.

Mohinder's eyes burned with fury as he started shouting at him.

"Alright? No Gabriel…I'm as far from fucking alright as I can possibly get, and you - you have some goddamn nerve asking me if I'm alright!"

"Wait - Mohinder…"

"No you wait," Mohinder continued, his words exploding out of him in a fury.

"If you only knew, _knew _the fucked up, evil shit you have done to this world, to me, to my life and the people in it! If you knew even half of it - then you wouldn't even have the audacity to stand there with those sad eyes of yours and ask me stupid things like am I _alright!_"

Gabriel took each and every hateful word from Mohinder like a punch in the gut, felt it settle there and turn his insides hot and heavy with embarrassment and shame.

Gabriel found himself shaking all over as Mohinder just stared at him for what felt like an impossibly long minute before he turned heel and started trudging through the thankfully empty parking lot.

Gabriel stood there for several seconds shaking all over then his own anger kicked in and it kicked in hard.

Gabriel stormed after Mohinder and started shouting right back.

"Then fucking tell me already! Instead of this cryptic bullshit…"

Mohinder turned and Gabriel saw the fury there, one that matched his own.

Gabriel felt something inside him snap, before he realized what he was doing - he had Mohinder by his collar and was slamming him up against the side of the building.

Gabriel was only vaguely aware of Claire yelling at him to stop while she raced up to where they were and tried to pry them apart.

All Gabriel could feel were the tears running down his face, impossibly hot as he shook the man in front of him. Everything else including Claire's pleas faded to a dull, unrecognizable roar.

"Just tell me already!"

Gabriel demanded, shaking Mohinder all the harder.

"Let - him - go!" Claire yelled as she pulled him by his arm, her voice high pitched and frightened.

Gabriel turned to her, blinking as he did so. He came to slowly, taking in the fearful look in her eyes, and did as she asked.

He stumbled backwards, shocked to realize that he had put his hands on Mohinder.

Two pairs of wide and fearful eyes watched as he struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

Gabriel looked away from them, putting his head in his hands as he started to break down.  
Claire was concerned, hesitantly she stepped towards Gabriel and drew him into her arms.

"I'm so sorry," Gabriel sobbed, "Whatever it is I am so sorry…why - why can't that be enough!"

"Because it isn't!" Mohinder shouted, "I loved you and you lied to me, you used me! You broke my fucking heart…"

His confession took them all back. Even Claire stood there, eyes wide as every hurt Mohinder carried with him burst out of him in a torrent of pent up fury.

Gabriel just stood there. Something like this should have shocked him, but instead it was if he already knew all this, as if a part of him had always known the reason why Mohinder hated him so much and why he was so justified in it.

"Mohinder…"

Gabriel tried to respond but couldn't, he couldn't get out a single word and saying sorry didn't seem like the thing to do.

Mohinder wouldn't have let him anyway.

"Do you want to hear the rest, Gabriel?" Mohinder taunted him.

"Just stop it, both you!" Claire demanded as she got between the two of them and pushed them apart.

"No - he wants to hear the truth…fine…"

Claire whirled on Mohinder as she shoved him with all her might.

It was a gesture that surprised all concerned.

"No!" She said, face flushed with anger, "You will not… just shut up!"

Claire turned to Gabriel and then back to Mohinder.

"How is this helping?" She demanded, as she scanned both their faces.

"Huh? How is it going to help us deal with the real problem here?"

"Which is?" Mohinder asked, suddenly quiet.

"That we have a fucking job to do," she hissed at him through gritted teeth, " And there is no way we will be able to do it if we can't just leave the past where it belongs…in the PAST!"

Both Mohinder and Gabriel looked away from her as she eyed each of them with a furious look.

"Now! I am sorry that my father put you two together, okay and I am sorry Mohinder," Claire turned to him, "that now he is bringing Peter into this - but we both know my father well enough to know that there is a reason behind everything he does. Do I make myself clear?"

Both Gabriel and Mohinder nodded in response.

"Good, cause I am done dealing with this…now let's go - we have a plane to catch."

Gabriel followed her as she stormed back to the direction of the car, Mohinder sighed and went after them.

--------

Peter Petrelli was waiting for them when they got off their flight. Gabriel spotted him first, even if he did not remember Peter or the devastating events that had transpired at their last meeting.

Nevertheless he recognized, the slight, good looking man with the thick dark hair and lopsided grin as he stood in a sea of other faces, scanning the crowds for them.

Gabriel leaned over to Claire and gestured, "Is that him?"

She looked over and nodded, "Yeah, that's Peter," she said happily.

Peter spotted them and waved as Claire hurried over to him and all but threw herself in his outstretched arms.

They embraced warmly as Mohinder followed with Gabriel trailing behind.

"Hey kid," Peter said as he pulled back from Claire, "It's good to see you."

"Call me kid again and I'll beat your ass," Claire snickered.

Peter laughed at that, looked up from hugging Claire to greet Mohinder.

Peter didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over seeing him. His face broke into a wide grin as soon Mohinder approached.

Gabriel hung back as Peter pulled Mohinder into a tight hug, taking pleasure in the fact that Mohinder looked none to thrilled by it.

Peter seemed to sense his unease and pulled back, clapping Mohinder on the shoulders as he did so.

"You look really good, " Peter said, with that same smile held firmly in place.

"I've been better," Mohinder admitted as he stepped back from Peter's arms.

It was then that Peter turned his gaze to Gabriel and the look in Peter's dark eyes was enough to make Gabriel squirm, a fact which he hated.

"So this is the new partner?" Peter said brightly, however the falsity of his cheerfulness was not lost on Gabriel.

Gabriel took the opportunity to lean across Mohinder and offer Peter his outstretched hand.

"I'm Gabriel Gray," he said, and for a second Gabriel thought he would ignore him.

Then Peter smiled but the smiles warmness didn't match the hard, menacing stare of his eyes.

"We've met," he said as he shook his hand, "Peter Petrelli."

"Nice to meet you… again," Gabriel awkwardly.

Peter turned back to Mohinder and Claire, and then looked up briefly to include Gabriel.

"Well, you guys must be exhausted, let's go back to the apartment and get settled." Claire nodded and hung behind with Gabriel as Peter insisted on helping Mohinder with his luggage.

"So, what do you think of him?" Claire asked Gabriel, once they were out of earshot.

"He seems nice enough," Gabriel said softly, "Despite the fact that he hates my guts."

Claire didn't try to deny it.

"Well, that's because you tried to kill him– about three times, I think."

Gabriel tugged on her arm, made her stop.

"Christ! Is there anyone I didn't try to kill?"

"Not in present company I'm afraid," she said with a shrug.

"God…" He mumbled.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't worry so much 'bout Peter, he's already beaten your ass for it."

Gabriel looked at the back of the man ahead of him, frowning.

Claire laughed as his puzzled expression gave away his thoughts on the subject.

"Yeah, I know he doesn't look like much but you'd be surprised," she said as she pulled Gabriel through the crowded terminal and towards the direction Peter and Mohinder had gone.

-----

Gabriel stood in the front hall of Peter's large loft, amazed over the sheer size and opulence of the place.

_So he's good-looking and rich and Mohinder left him because…_

The front hall led into an enormous living room with huge panoramic views of the New York City skyline. The furniture, though obviously expensive, was tastefully done and sparse.

Claire stepped past Gabriel and made her way down the long hallway on his right.

It seemed very obvious to Gabriel that Claire was very familiar with this apartment, and had her own room here.

Gabriel just stood around as Peter and Mohinder talked, quietly amongst themselves.

Gabriel sat his bags down and moved to the windows, took in the views as he pretended not to listen in on Peter and Mohinder's conversation.

"I like what you've done with the place," Mohinder said.

"Yeah, well I'm might sell, it's too big now…"

"Peter…"

"I wasn't implying anything," Peter said," but for just me and occasionally Claire or the kids…it's too big."

"It was always too big," Mohinder said and Peter laughed.

"Yeah, well now it's even bigger, without you..."

-----------

Later that evening, Gabriel stood outside on the balcony. He leaned against the railing and stared out onto the sprawling city below him.

This was as close to home he had been in four years- he knew as much even if the very few memories he had of this city were distant, hazy dreams. It filled Gabriel with a deep sadness as he stared out at the twinkling lights below, listening to the sounds of the city beneath him.

He thought of his mother, a woman whose face was covered in dark shadows, for whom his love for was a thing a he knew but didn't understand.

"I thought everyone had gone to bed."

Gabriel turned as Mohinder stepped out onto the balcony, sliding the glass doors shut as he did so.

It surprised Gabriel how deep in his own head he had been, to not even hear as the other man approached.

Gabriel shrugged, "I couldn't sleep."

There was a moment of awkwardness and then Mohinder spoke.

"I owe you an apology for earlier."

"You don't -"

"I do," Mohinder said as he came closer, "My behavior was inexcusable."

Gabriel didn't know what to say to that, as finding himself now on the receiving end of Mohinder's soft brown eyes wasn't helping matters.

Gabriel turned his back on Mohinder, looked back out over the city.

"If I did even half of what you said then there is nothing you need to apologize for."

Mohinder sighed at that and joined Gabriel out by the railing. Mohinder rested his elbows on the edge and leaned forward, eyes closed. The wind whipping his hair back from his face.

Gabriel took the opportunity to study him in profile, amazed by how much more beautiful he was close up.

Mohinder turned to him, catching his gaze.

"I wonder if you even know who you are at all," Mohinder said softly.

Gabriel found himself holding his breath, eyes glued to Mohinder's face as he continued.

"I wonder sometimes if this is the real you, who you were all along: someone lost and uncertain - maybe Bennett is right, there is hope…redemption to be found."

The sound of Mohinder's words should have filled Gabriel with happiness but all he felt was unbearable, suffocating sadness.

He bowed his head, wanting to tell Mohinder that he didn't know anything about himself at all. The only thing Gabriel knew was that he wanted to start over, he wanted to rid himself of every horrible thing he had done in this life.

"It doesn't matter, you were right earlier - I can't do anything to redeem the horrible things I have done," Gabriel sighed, looked away.

"I just wish I could go back and never hurt you."

Mohinder coughed at those words and for a moment he was silent.

When he spoke again, his voice sounded far away, distant.

"Gabriel," he started, "What happened between us…you didn't…"

Gabriel turned to him, stopping him.

"Don't tell me I never cared about you Mohinder," he said somewhat harshly, "I did, I _know_ I did."

Mohinder just looked away, his expression deeply pained.

"You know I never really forgot you Mohinder- of everything, I clung to you the hardest."

"Is that true?" Mohinder whispered.

Gabriel just looked at him sadly, looked away.

"You think everything out of my mouth is a lie, don't you?"

Gabriel heard Mohinder scoff at that, "I suppose I do," he admitted.

"Then it wouldn't matter what I did, from this moment on - I can never make it up to you, can I?"

"No," Mohinder said sadly, "I can try and be civil, maybe even friendly but…"

Gabriel was suddenly overcome with the urge to lean across the small space between them and just simply lay his lips upon Mohinder's own.

He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving Mohinder's face.

Mohinder turned away, placing his hand on Gabriel's chest to stop him.

It was a gesture that caused them both to pull back as if they had both been stung by something hot and dangerous.

"I can't Gabriel," Mohinder said shuddering, "I can never be with you again."

"Alright," Gabriel nodded, but it wasn't alright. His heart feeling like something twisted and shredded inside of him.

Mohinder's words hurt, hurt more then he thought himself capable of bearing when all he wanted was the man before him, he wanted to be with him and do whatever needed be done in order to make things right between them.

Yet, it was all wrong - wrong in some dark way that could never be made right.

Not even with time - not even with a passion that scorched them both as they stood looking at one another, wanting each other but terrified of the repercussions.

The pain that would surely follow even something as simple as a kiss.

"Oh, that's where you went," Peter said from the doorway, causing both Mohinder and Gabriel to step back from one another in a hurry, breaking the spell.

Peter seemed anything but pleased to see the two of them so close together, eyes locked to one another,

"I was just getting some air," Mohinder said feebly.

Peter nodded, "You don't need to explain yourself to me."

Yet, his tone made it clear that he believed Mohinder did.

Gabriel cleared his throat.

"I was ah- just heading off to bed," Gabriel answered quickly. Peter only glared in response.

"Goodnight," Gabriel said to both Mohinder and Peter.

"Goodnight," Mohinder answered, yet his eyes were still locked on Peter's.

Peter didn't respond as Gabriel pushed past him, not even bothering to step aside for him as Gabriel went into the living room closing the sliding glass doors behind him.

Peter wasted no time in having it out with Mohinder.

"Are you insane?"

"He can hear…"

"I don't care what he can hear…what the hell is going on Mohinder?"

"Stay out of my head Peter - you have no right!"

Gabriel knew he should shut them both out but found he couldn't.

"No right… and he what? …Hasn't he done enough, huh? Haven't you had enough of the lies and…"

"Stop it!"

"No, why can't you just let go?"

"Shut up Peter, just shut up…"

"Don't walk away from me Mohinder."

"I already did…"

_I can never be with you again. _

Gabriel didn't want to hear anymore. He felt tears sting his eyes and knew he was shaking all over. A furious sort of pain crawled across his body, almost urging him to go back out there and wring this Petrelli guy's neck with his bare hands.

He rushed out the front door and took the stairs down to the front, not even bothering to wait for the elevator.

He just needed to get away - away from Mohinder, away from Peter, but most of all: away from himself.


	7. Of Things Past

AN: As always a huge thank you to my awesome beta Motsureru.

Part 7

Of Things Past

Claire rolled over in the dark and sighed with annoyance as the sound of people arguing woke her from the first half way decent sleep she had in awhile.

Frustrated, she tossed the blankets back and stumbled out of the room and into the hallway, wearing nothing but a large tee shirt and her underwear.

She stumbled into the living room, bleary eyed to be greeted by the sight of Mohinder and Peter standing in the middle of the living hurling accusations and curses at one another._Fucking great,_ she thought, livid.

"What the hell is going on?"

They turned and paused long enough to take in the sight of her standing there, obviously newly awakened and pissed off.

"I'm sorry," Peter said quickly, "Did we wake you?"

"Ah - yeah," she said, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

"What the hell are you two fighting about at," she glanced at the clock, "1:30 in the morning?"

Peter sighed, raking a hand through his hair, and looked to Mohinder, who had the good grace to be embarrassed.

"Were very sorry to wake you," Mohinder added.

"That's not what I asked," Claire said, and suddenly the realization dawned.

"Oh I get it…is this because of Gabriel?"

"Gabriel," Peter laughed bitterly, "How can you people call him that as if he wasn't…"

"Cut it out Peter," Claire said harshly, "You don't have all the facts."

"I don't have all the facts," Peter spat at her, "All I know is I come out on the balcony and find Sylar eye-fucking my boyfriend."

"I am not your boyfriend and - he wasn't - he's my friend," Mohinder said in a rush.

Claire raised an eyebrow at the word 'friend.'

"Would you two just shut the fuck up!"

Claire said, "Christ! I can't believe he's had to listen to you two."

Claire turned to go check on Gabriel and turned back to them both.

"Seriously would it be too much to ask that we have at least one drama-less day, huh?"

Claire started down the long hallway towards the other guest room. She lifted her hand and knocked.

After several moments with no answer she pushed open the door to find the room empty. Claire backed out of the room and hurried back towards the living room.

"He's gone," she said breathlessly.

"Where'd he go?" Mohinder asked, instantly worried.

Claire shrugged, "If I knew the answer to that would I be running in here, frantic?"

"Good point," Peter said.

"That's not good," Mohinder replied and went to the door, grabbing his coat as he went.

Peter hurried up to him and grabbed his arm.

"Where the hell are you off to?"

Mohinder yanked back his arm and turned, glanced at Claire standing behind Peter. Her expression concerned.

"I'm going after him," he said.

"In a city of eight million - Mohinder, no one could find him."

"I can," Mohinder said as he opened the door and left the apartment before Peter could stop him.

-----

Gabriel wandered for what felt like forever; he pushed past - nameless, faceless seas of people not pausing.

He didn't want to think, he didn't want to remember the look in Mohinder's eyes.

His words: harsh and definitive - raking against the walls of his heart, searing his insides.

_"If you only knew, knew the fucked up, evil shit you have done to this world, to me, to my life and the people in it!"_

Gabriel had wandered for over an hour, before he wound on the subway. The car was nearly empty save two drunken college students who sat by themselves and giggled.

Gabriel turned his head to the window, leaned his head against it,and grappled with this overwhelming sense of loneliness he felt.

This sense being of the world but set apart from it.

When he got off, he realized that he was now in Queens. Then he remembered he was born in Queens, he had lived there most of his life. Wasn't that what Bennett had told him?

It was if he had chosen this stop on purpose and had not even realized it.

Was he remembering his past?

Gabriel stumbled out of the subway and out onto the street, finding himself in a shabby rundown neighborhood of boarded up store fronts and old, decrypt brownstones.

He stood for a moment, surveying his surroundings - the streets were quiet, a few people huddled outside talking amongst themselves, walking down the streets in pairs.

Gabriel turned and started walking to his right, turning onto a side street.

Everything had a vague air of familiarity, but there was no way he could say for certain that he had been here before. He simply walked by instinct – searching for anything that would connect him to past.

He paused now outside of an apartment building, something about it catching his eye. Though he could not begin to understand what had drawn him to this particular place, nevertheless he found himself frozen in his tracks, staring. His whole body reeling as realization dawned. This was home. This was where his mother had lived before she had died. Somehow, he had found his way home again.

Gabriel walked up to the security door and stopped as words flowed over him - dangerous and overwelming.

_You're not Gabriel. You're damned. And I want you out of my house._

The memory of those words, harsh and shrill - made him stop in his tracks and raise a hand to his head as if he needed to clear it.

Gabriel's hand hovered over the handle of the door for a moment.

Then he pushed on the security door; it was obviously broken, as it swung open easily.

Gabriel stepped into a hallway. He looked around sadden to see that the place was complete dump.

His mother had lived here?

The floor was sticky, cracked and crusted over with tracked in dirt. A single yellow light bulb blinked off and on, casting a horrible murky glow over everything.

Gabriel repressed a shudder and continued down the hall, pausing outside apartment number sixteen.

He stood there for a long moment, unsure of what he even hoped to accomplish by being here. His mother was dead, she had died nearly four years ago.

Then he heard footsteps and turned just as a pretty young woman with long dark hair and ridiculous thigh-length black leather boots rounded the corner, coming into view.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw him.

"If your looking for Lacy, she's isn't home."

Gabrie; turned to her and looked back at the door as a wave of recognition flooded over him.

_I want my son. What did you do with my son? Give me back my boy!_

He shuddered and blinked, those words jarring his senses. He winced and stepped back - holding his head as if seized by a terrible headache.

"Dude, are you alright?" The girl asked as she stepped closer to him.

Gabriel nodded, shaking the echo of those words from his head.

"Yeah, I…"

Gabriel looked back at the girl standing there before him, her expression one of concern.

"You sure…you going to throw up or something?"Didn't any one ever tell you not to talk to strangers?

"No, I wasn't…a older woman lived here...years ago…"

Gabriel watched as the woman blanched visibly. She looked at the door of the apartment with horror in her eyes and then back to Gabriel. "Uh - why you want to know 'bout her?"

"She's - she was a friend of my mothers," Gabriel said quickly, "Uh what's wrong?"

"That lady was murdered…'bout four years ago."

"Murdered?" Gabriel managed to choke out.

The word sounded so harsh - so ugly coming from this girl, her eyes big with disgust.

"Yeah, dude, someone stabbed her to death with her own scissors, shit the psycho even drew a mural in her freakin' blood."

"Wait, what…"

Gabriel just stood there for a long moment, gaping at her stupidly.

It was a mistake, she was mistaken - she had to be, his mother had died of cancer.

Bennett had told him as much…

Gabriel stepped back and away from the woman.

"Oh god!"

Gabriel gasped as he stood there as panic started to overtake him. The world spinning around him - his breathing heavy and…

"Are you having a panic attack?"

The woman was instantly at his side, trying to get him to breathe, but he shoved her off of him.

"Hey!" She protested as he pushed past her and all but ran from her, from that apartment, from the voice of his mother's ghost, shrieking at him from the grave.

-----

Gabriel pushed his way out of the apartment building and onto the street.

His whole body felt weak and disoriented as he turned back to the building, tears of shock stinging his eyes while he stood there gasping for air Before he knew it, he was standing on the curb emptying the contents of his stomach into the gutter, choking and sputtering. "

_You don't have a mother Gabriel."_

_"No, I do - I remember that much…her name is Virginia and she - she lives in Queens."_

_"No - Gabriel…your mothers dead, she's been dead for awhile now."_

_"How?"_

_"You don't remember?"_

_"No…I don't…I …what happened?"  
"Cancer, she died of cancer." _

Gabriel legs gave out on him and he crumbled down onto the sidewalk. He sat there, rocking himself back and forth, letting the tears flow.

------

It was well after midnight when the phone rang, rousing Bennett from his sleep.

He rolled over, groaning and reached to answer it, "Hello?"

"Bennett?"

"Yeah, who is this?"

"Bennett, it's Gabriel. I'm sorry to call you so late."

"Who is it?" Sandra mumbled in her sleep as she rolled over and threw an arm over her husband.

"It's work honey," he told her as he slipped out of bed, carrying the cordless out of the room with him. He closed the bedroom door behind him.

Exhausted, he wiped the sleep from his eyes and greeted the person on the other end of the phone.

"What's the matter - is everyone alright?

"They're all fine," Gabriel said, and then he paused.

Bennett could hear the panic in his voice now; he wasn't hysterical but he seemed disoriented nonetheless, almost as if he was in shock.

Gabriel's words were punctuated by deep breathing as if he had no air in his lungs.

Bennett was alarmed.

"Gabriel, something's the matter - tell me what it is?"

"It's - I just…"

"Gabriel?"

There was the sound of Gabriel trying to steady his breathing and then he spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

Bennett found his chest tightening at those words, there was a lot they hadn't told Gabriel.

"Which truth are we referring to?"

There was the sound on the other end, of Gabriel fighting to regain his composure, and when he spoke his voice was faint, barely a whisper.

"About my mother?"

Bennett felt the air being sucked right from his body.

This wasn't good. _Damnit!_ He thought, _I'm going to kill Suresh…_

" I did tell you about your mother," Bennett started, hoping he was mistaken, but Gabriel cut him off.

"No, why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"The truth, the truth is your mother died of cancer…"

"Stop lying to me!"

Gabriel shouted and the outburst took them both aback. Bennett took a deep breath, spoke.

"Know what?"

"That I stabbed her with a pair of scissors and then decided to finger-paint in her blood, Bennett!" Gabriel shouted at him.

"Calm down," Bennett told him, "Can you do that Gabriel, can you calm down and then we'll talk, alright?"

There was the sound of sniffling on the other end and then Gabriel spoke.

"You want me to be calm?" He sounded incredulous.

"I think that would be in everyone's best interest, wouldn't you say?"

Bennett said, trying to keep Gabriel from breaking down completely.

Yet, on the other end of the line there was only the sound of Gabriel's panicked, labored breathing.

"Gabriel…listen to me, just calm down - breathe okay?"

"I'm trying," Gabriel said, he sounded more himself. Bennett sighed, relieved.

"Good, that's real good, you remembered what we talked about - you can not lose control of yourself, you need to be calm, rational."

"I just don't understand, I just don't know why," Gabriel whispered bitterly, "Everyone I loved…I hurt…I hurt so many…"

Bennett rubbed his tired eyes and took a moment before responding.

"That is not you anymore Gabriel, that man is dead…do you understand?"  
"No, that was me, I can't pretend, I didn't - what kind of man kills his own mother? I loved her, why would I hurt her, why?"

"It was an accident Gabriel, you didn't mean to hurt her."

"You're lying to me again."

Bennett shook his head, "You have my word Gabriel, it was an accident."

"I can't do this. When he looks at me, I just can't - the hate in his eyes…"

"Who? Gabriel… talk to me," Bennett urged.

"It doesn't matter," Gabriel said after a long pause, "She was right, I'm damned - I'm…"

"Are you remembering things, Gabriel?" Bennett asked, holding his breath for the answer.

"No, not really - just words, bits and pieces, I…"

An ambulance went by, drowning out Gabriel's words.

"Gabriel where are you?"

There was a long pause.

"I don't know…a park, I just needed to get away, I'm sorry to call."

Bennett sighed, "Don't be Gabriel, just go back to the apartment and try and rest - things are going to get a bit hairy from this point on and I need you with me, understand?"

"I - can't go back there," Gabriel said reluctantly.

"You have to, you have a job to do and I am going to need you to do it, understand?"

Gabriel sighed, mumbled yes.

"Good, now before I hang up, I need you to listen to me very carefully, can you do that for me?"

Gabriel swallowed back the lump in his throat, "Yeah," he said softly.

"You are not damned, you have a dark past but the future, the future is what you make it - you can do a lot of good in this world, Gabriel and I need you to remember that, believe in it."

Gabriel closed his eyes, wishing that Bennett's words were enough, but everything just felt empty and hollowed inside him.

'We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah," Gabriel whispered.

"'Night Gabriel, get some rest."

Gabriel hung up and sat back against the bench - covered his face with his hands and sighed loudly - his throat thick with his tears and his brain whirling with voices.

Gabriel looked up at the sound of someone approaching as was amazed to see that it was Mohinder rounding the corner of a tree-lined path.

The relief on his face almost took away the pain of what he had learned for the briefest of seconds.

"There you are," Mohinder said as he approached.

Gabriel stood quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"How in the hell did you find me?"

"There's a tracker on you," Mohinder said, "I activated it using my cell phone."

"I have - a what…never mind, I don't care."

Gabriel shook his head, rising slowly from his seat on the bench. Mohinder stepped closer caught his stricken expression in the moonlight.

"Gabriel, are you - are you alright?"

Gabriel shook his head and held a hand to his face, turned away so Mohinder couldn't see the redness in his eyes, the tears.

"I'm just - I'm okay."

"You don't look okay."

"I'm fine!" Gabriel shouted whirling on Mohinder, who stepped back from him.

"Christ!" Gabriel said, instantly regretful, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lose my temper."

Mohinder just shook his head at that.

"It's alright, I'm just glad you're not hurt or…"

Gabriel just laughed bitterly, interrupting him.

"Or what? Out terrorizing the streets of New York?"

Gabriel started away from Mohinder, but called back over his shoulder.

"Besides, why would you care about what happens to me?"

Mohinder went after him and grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt, hauled him back.

"Cut it out," Mohinder said, a hard edge creeping into his voice.

"I'm sorry you had to overhear Peter and I…"

Gabriel turned at that.

"Why the hell would I care about Peter?"

Mohinder released his grip on Gabriel's shirt, stepped back.

"I don't know," he said after a moment.

There was a heavy pause.

"Was he good to you?" Gabriel asked after a moment.

Mohinder frowned at the question but answered him anyway.

"I suppose he was."

Gabriel sighed and looked away, and then he turned back to Mohinder - confusion and hurt on his face.

"Then why the hell are you here instead of with him?"

"What the hell happened to you tonight?"

"Don't change the subject," Gabriel said forcefully.

Mohinder just looked away, sensing that Gabriel wasn't going to drop the topic easily.

"I wasn't but everything between Peter and myself is personal."

"You're right, I'm sorry," Gabriel said quickly as he started away.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I - I need to walk…"

"Just tell me what happened!"

Gabriel turned and bit his lip, sighed.

"I can't tell you," Gabriel whispered, "I know - I know you'll just…"

"Just tell me."

Gabriel clearly didn't want to tell him what had happened; he paused and then shook his head, the words coming out of him in a torrent.

"I went and I got on the subway and somehow, I don't know how but I wound up in Queens and…"

He watched Mohinder's face darken, pain in his eyes.

Gabriel paused, catching the look on Mohinder's face, realization dawned on him.

"You already knew, didn't you? About my mother?"

"Yes," Mohinder answered honestly, It's in your file."

"You have my file?"

"No, I've only read it - when I joined the company I read whatever I could…"

"Why?"

Mohinder answered Gabriel as simply as he could.

"Because I wanted to understand you."

Gabriel laughed out loud but it came out bitter and forced.

"Yeah, that's good - maybe one of us will."

"Gabriel, you're as white as sheet and shaking, just at least come back to the bench, sit down, please."

Gabriel pushed his way past Mohinder, felt him grab him by his shirt, tug him back.

"Gabriel…"

"Let me go, Mohinder."

"No," Mohinder said in a tense whisper, "Not until you calm down."

Gabriel just stared at him, trying to fight back the pain that was slowly filling him, nearly drowning him in it.

"Just go, please," he all but begged Mohinder but Mohinder shook his head and tightened his grip on Gabriel's shirt.

"No," Mohinder said softly, "I know what happened tonight was a shock to you, but your mother was an accident Gabriel, you didn't mean to hurt her, do you understand?"

"How the hell do you know that? How could anyone possibly know?"

Mohinder was quiet for a moment.

"Because you told us Gabriel, the company before…"

"Before what?"

Gabriel shook Mohinder off him.

"What are they hiding from me?"

Mohinder just looked pained, "Nothing - it's nothing now please just come back with me."

"No," Gabriel told him stubbornly, "Just go back - back to him and his million dollar loft and …everything that is good and…just leave me alone!"

Mohinder got in Gabriel's face, angry now, grabbed him roughly by the front of his shirt.

"I tried leaving you alone but obviously fate had other plans for us, now calm down right now and come with me or I swear to god! I will haul off and hit you if you even so much as try to fight me on this or mention Peter to me one more fucking time!"

Mohinder released him, turning away.

"Come on," he said.

Gabriel started to protest, but caught the look in Mohinder's eyes and nodded instead.

"Alright," he agreed, and together they started back to Peter's in silence.


	8. Course of Action

Chapter 8

Course of Action

Summary: Gabriel and Peter butt heads as the group figures out how to find their killer…

Claire got up the next morning after a terrible night's sleep, thanks to Mohinder, Peter and their late night argument.

Claire grabbed a quick shower and threw on jeans and a sweat shirt. Then she went into the kitchen to hunt down some food. It was only eight o'clock in the morning and already she was in a foul mood.

The smell of coffee however, perked her up some.

Rounding the corner and following her nose, she found fresh coffee made as well as cream and sugar left out.

Claire poured herself a welcomed cup and grabbed a muffin off the counter. She then carried her breakfast outside to the balcony, hoping the sun would alleviate the morning blues.

Peter was already out there sitting at the round patio table, a coffee mug as well as various papers and folders strewn around him.

"Hey, am I thanking you for the coffee?" Claire asked as she pulled up a seat and sat down.

Peter looked up. "Yeah, that would be me."

Claire sighed and sipped her coffee.

"That the new case?" Claire asked gesturing.

"Yeah," Peter answered, closing the folder he was reading with a sigh.

"However, I'll be damned if I can even read any of it right now."

"Why? What's the matter?"

Peter just reached for his coffee, sipped and avoided eye contact.

"Well, let's just say I didn't get the most restful night's sleep knowing that Sylar was sleeping in my house."

"He's not Sylar," Claire said as she broke off a piece of her muffin and popped it in her mouth.

Peter just shook his head at that.

Claire continued chewing on her muffin.

"His name is Gabriel and he's actually a pretty cool guy."

"A cool guy?" Peter snorted, leaning back in his seat with an exasperated sigh.

"Yeah, a cool guy… I didn't stutter did I?"

"How can you sit here and make jokes, Claire?"

Claire dusted her hands off on her lap and took another large sip of her coffee before answering her rather irate uncle.

"I wasn't," Claire said, "I'm only being honest."

Peter was clearly aggravated with the direction the conversation was heading.

"Are we talking about the same guy who tried to kill you or me or …"

Peter stopped his tirade and sighed loudly. He paused and looked down, expression glazed and faraway. Claire took the opportunity to get to the bottom of the real problem.

"You only feel this way because of Mohinder."

Peter's head snapped back as if he'd been slapped.

"No, I don't," Peter said forcefully, "Stop trying to do my thinking for me, would you Claire?"

"Fine," Claire replied her voice rising an octave as her emotions flared.

"But seriously Peter, I love you to death but you've got to let this thing with Mohinder go."

Peter was furious; he stood up and slammed his chair against the table, upsetting his coffee, which sloshed over some of the papers scattered about.

Claire managed to grab her own mug before she got coffee all over herself.

"Goddamn it Peter!" Claire swore.

"You don't even know what you are talking about Claire!" Peter continued.

"I know enough to realize that you are not only turning into a complete nut job but also an asshole over something that ended years ago."

"That's easy for you say," he said glaring down at her, "But what if it's impossible for me to let go?"

"Peter…"

"I love him Claire, and I am not - I am not giving up on us, especially so that fucking psycho can back into his life with a clean slate and pretend he isn't the one who fucked everything up for us in the first place."

Claire met Peter's wide hurt eyes.

Claire nodded, "You have a point," she said softly.

Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "I know things are over between Mohinder and I - I know I am fighting a lost cause but I can't help myself."

"I know," Claire told him. Claire gestured for him to sit. He did so reluctantly, lowered his head, and cradled it in his hands. He groaned loudly with frustration and looked up at his niece's concerned expression. Peter slid his hand over hers and squeezed.

Peter gave her a weak smile. One she returned.

"I really missed you, kid."

Claire leaned over and pulled Peter to her. She planted a warm kiss on his forehead.

"I missed you too, Peter."

------

Gabriel woke up, feeling slightly disoriented. The sun from the open window was impossibly bright. Blinded, he held a hand to his face, groaning at the sudden intrusion of daylight.

Instantly, the night came back to him with a vengeance, causing him to roll over and bury his face in his pillow in an unsuccessful attempt to block out the painful events of the night before.

The truth about his mother's death and his phone call were for the most part a thankful blur. The only thing Gabriel remembered clearly was Mohinder finding him in the park and the subsequent argument that had followed. Afterwards, they had then taken a cab ride back to Peter's apartment. A silent ride as each of them, they had sat side by side, careful to keep distance between them.

The air in the cab had been thick with tension, with unspoken words neither could begin to articulate.

When they got back to the apartment, Claire was waiting up for them. Peter had already gone to bed. Mohinder left Gabriel with Claire and went to see Peter. Gabriel had turned to watch him go – the thought of Mohinder going to Peter's bedroom in the middle of the night hurt.

It hurt a lot.

Claire had made them both some chamomile tea and together they sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, drinking. Gabriel didn't realize he was shaking until Claire reached over and rested her hand on his trembling arm.

"Jesus, Gabriel," Claire said, her tone more one of concern then admonishment.

"What the hell were you thinking, running off like that?"

"I just needed space," Gabriel mumbled weakly, "Besides, no one told me I was so much of a threat I needed a tracking device imbedded in my skin."

"We all have tracking devices," Claire informed him.

Gabriel looked up at her, surprised.

"It's standard, seeing how the companies had some rogue agents in the past so they came up with an implant and now it's standard that anyone joining the organization gets tagged."

"Yet with me no one tells me anything about it," Gabriel grumbled.

"No," Claire said, "No one was going to mention it you- that's true but it isn't a secret."

"Yeah, well we have enough of those around here," Gabriel said somewhat bitterly as he finished his tea. Claire didn't respond.

Claire simply watched as Gabriel got up and put his cup in the sink. When he turned back to her there was a look of utter defeat on his face that worried her.

"Where'd you go?" Claire asked.

Gabriel didn't really feel like getting into it with her. Everything was still so raw, so open and sore. It was too much; Gabriel knew he wasn't even remotely ready to deal with the things he had learned about himself tonight, especially with the one person who actually treated him like a friend.

"Home," he said softly, not looking to see the stunned expression on Claire's face.

Gabriel turned to leave. Claire stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"When you want to talk, let me know, okay?"

Gabriel smiled at her, thanked her for the tea. Then he went to his room and laid there for four impossibly long hours waiting for sleep, wondering if Mohinder had ever gone back to his own room.

--------

After finally willing himself up out of bed, Gabriel dragged himself into the shower. Gabriel was just finishing dressing for the day when someone knocked on the door of his room.

He answered it, surprised to see Mohinder standing there.

"Good morning," Mohinder offered.

"Morning," Gabriel said as he stepped aside to let Mohinder into the room.

"Do you need something?" Gabriel asked as he went into the bathroom. The sound of him brushing his teeth drifted over to Mohinder. Since he hadn't bothered to close the door, Mohinder followed him, leaning against the doorframe.

Gabriel looked up as he approached.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

Gabriel's brow furrowed with confusion as he turned from Mohinder to the sink, spat into it, and then straightened.

"About what?" Gabriel questioned the other man. Mohinder simply handed him a washcloth, which Gabriel took.

His brow knitted with confusion.

"Why are you giving me this?"

Mohinder grinned a little and pointed to the corner of Gabriel's mouth.

"You missed a spot,"

Gabriel blushed and wiped away the leftover toothpaste, tossing the washcloth into the sink.

"Okay, so is this about…"

Gabriel paused.

"If I say his name are you going to hit me?"

There was a slight smirk on Mohinder's face.

"Not today," Mohinder answered.

"So, has Peter decided to have me killed or something?" Gabriel asked half jokingly as he stepped past Mohinder and back into the bedroom. Gabriel reached for a sweatshirt hanging over the back of a chair and slid it on.

"He can read minds," Mohinder stated simply.

Gabriel turned back to Mohinder.

"So Peter can read minds? Is that all?"

"Are you always this confrontational in the morning?" Mohinder asked.

Gabriel frowned and starting hunting around the room for his shoes.

"No, sorry..."

Mohinder paused for a moment.

"Look, what I am trying to say is that the things that happened to you last night, if Peter mentions something it's not because I said anything to him."

Gabriel eyed Mohinder carefully as he slid on a shoe.

He was touched that Mohinder cared enough to let him know that.

"You didn't have..."

"I did," Mohinder said, his voice surprisingly soft.

His eyes locked firmly on Gabriel's own.

There was heavy pause then, behind it the weight of a thousand words.

Each found it impossible to tear their eyes away from the other. Gabriel felt the room growing increasingly warm. There was a faint humming in his ears as time seemed to slow down to a crawl. All he could see was Mohinder and Mohinder looking back at him.

Suddenly, Mohinder coughed and looked away, both of them shifting uncomfortably as the spell between them broke, he reality of things setting in.

"I'll see you outside," Mohinder said rather abruptly, heading for the door, "There is some coffee if you want it," Mohinder added as he hurried away, leaving Gabriel feeling faint, disoriented, and wearing only one shoe.

-------

"So, we've got at least ten young women – all of which, though murdered, appear as if they merely died in their sleep."

Peter tossed the folder he was reading down on the table, Claire and Gabriel sitting around the table with him. Peter was clearly aggravated. His eyes settled on Mohinder sitting to his right .

"Do you have any possible motives?"

Mohinder shook his head.

"Ideas, mainly - anyone else?"

Gabriel coughed and shifted in his seat.

"It's actually rather simple," Gabriel said as three sets of eyes turned in his direction.

"It's about power," Gabriel continued.

"How in the hell do you figure that?" Peter said, an edge of ridicule creeping into his tone.

Gabriel clammed up and looked away.

Claire tossed a dirty look Peter's way and urged Gabriel on.

"No, I want to hear this…go on," Claire encouraged.

Gabriel was reluctant to continue, especially with Peter burning a hole into his head.

"Well, look at the crimes scenes, all of the girls are left in bed, posed - full make up..."

"Yeah so?" Peter said, not even bothering to hide his animosity towards Gabriel any longer.

Gabriel just turned away from his cold stare and addressed Claire and Mohinder.

"It's about power for this guy, control – he's been weak his whole life, now he's in the drivers seat and every girl he ever looked at, who never looked back – he's going after now."

Claire nodded, impressed. "I bet you're right."

"So, what does that I have to do with the crimes scenes?" Peter asked, briskly.

"He poses them - almost like dolls, prizes..." Gabriel continued.

"This guy creates them in his _ideal_ image so to speak - these are all girls he has wanted but could never have and now with death, he can..."

"I still don't buy it," Peter interupted rudely.

"Peter," Mohinder started but stopped, clearly not wanting to start a fight. However, one was clearly brewing.

Peter ignored Mohinder's protest as he leaned across the table and eyed Gabriel with a challenging stare.

"No, I am just curious as to how you are coming up with this Gabriel?" "Is this a hunch or are you basing this off of, let's say personal experience, perhaps?"

"Peter, shut up!" Claire hissed as she watched Gabriel's face harden and his mouth form a thin, tight line.

Gabriel for his part didn't look away from Peter's hard stare this time. He simply followed it with one of his own, not willing to give Peter the satisfaction of seeing him back down.

The tension at the table was thick. Both Mohinder and Claire were preparing themselves for these two coming to blows.

"No Claire, I am anxious to have Gabriel here explain himself."

Gabriel opened his mouth to say something but stopped as he felt a hand land on his thigh and squeeze reassuringly.

Gabriel turned to Mohinder in surprise. Mohinder caught his stunned expression and, removing his hand, looked to Peter, who sat there with a self-satisfying smirk.

"I think it's you who needs to offer up a professional opinion on the matter," Mohinder told Peter.

"Considering the fact that both myself and Claire seem to think Gabriel might be on to something, wouldn't you say Claire?"

Claire turned and caught the angry look on her uncle's face before directing her attention over to Mohinder and Gabriel.

"I do," Claire answered quietly.

"Go on, Gabriel," Mohinder urged as he threw a disgusted look Peter's way. Peter simply crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat, obviously pissed off at Mohinder for defending Gabriel.

Gabriel turned his attention on Mohinder who nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"I think first off before we even establish an actual motive for certain, our main objective is to find this guy."

Mohinder and Claire nodded their agreement.

"Here look at this…" Gabriel said, opening up the folder to page five. Claire opened her own identical folder as Peter followed suite grudgingly.

"Okay first off, all the victims are female – all between the ages of 18 – 25, and all lived within two miles of each other."

With no one interrupted him this time. He went on, pleased as connections started forming faster than he could express.

"Now all of these women appear to have nothing in common with one another; some attended the same schools,but not all of them."

"Besides all being young, attractive and living alone - they are seemingly unconnected."

Gabriel closed the folder.

"So I suppose the key question is – where is our perpetrator finding them?"

Gabriel looked around at the group for answers.

"Do you have any ideas?" Mohinder asked.

"Sadly no," Gabriel said, "But once we find that link - we have our guy."

"What about a gym or exercise studio?" Claire offered.

Gabriel turned to her.

"This guy – from what I am assuming, wouldn't exactly be the hard body type so I am guessing a gym wouldn't be…"

"Do you have a point?" Peter asked, cutting him off rudely. Claire gave him a 'shut the hell up' look, while Mohinder shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not liking the direction that Peter was taking their discussion once again.

Gabriel was done playing games with Peter and it was time he let the other man know it.

Gabriel leaned across the table and addressed a sullen Peter sitting across from him.

"If you have something to say to me – I suggest you say it," Gabriel said, his tone dripping with venom.

"Really?" Peter said, eyebrow raised.

"It actually just so happens that I've got a lot of things to say to you – are sure you got the time, Gabe?"

Peter taunted, lips curved into an infuriating smirk.

"Alright, that's enough – I want to talk to you Peter." Mohinder said, pulling his chair back. He stood up and pushed his chair against the table. Peter dragged his eyes away from Gabriel and stood – scrapping his chair back noisily.

They went inside the apartment, Mohinder closing the sliding glass door behind them. Claire took a sip of her coffee and looked over at Gabriel, who shrugged and offered her a grin.

"You're such a troublemaker."  
He could tell she was only teasing him.

"Usually, but not today," Gabriel quipped as he started poring over the case files once again.

"Are you listening to them?" Claire asked after a moment. Gabriel looked up and answered her honestly.

"No, I'm not, why?"

"Damn, just curious," she replied with a chuckle as she took another sip of her coffee.

Claire grimaced and sat it back down.

"Poor Peter, for all his special abilities he still makes the worlds worst cup of coffee." Gabriel just stared at her for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.

Claire made a face.

"What? Do I have something in teeth?"

"That's it!" Gabriel said as inspiration struck.

"What is?" Claire asked curious.

"I know where to find him," Gabriel stated.

Claire looked to him and then to her coffee cup. Her face breaking out in a huge grin.

"You are a fucking genius!" Claire swore as she stared at Gabriel in amazement.

-----

After several minutes, Mohinder finally came back out on the balcony. Peter followed behind, though he still continued to shoot dirty looks in Gabriel's general vicinity. Peter nevertheless sat still long enough to allow Gabriel to explain his theory.

"So – this guy he works in a coffee shop?" Mohinder asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Isn't that genius?" Claire asked excitedly.

"Think about it, what is the one place these girls would have in common?"

"Where they get their coffee…" Mohinder murmured, nodding his head in agreement. "Good god that is brilliant, so simple and yet...nice work, Gabriel." Gabriel had to fight back the urge to grin at the compliment. He shifted his gaze until it fell on Peter, who sighed and looked away.

"Okay then," Peter said after a moment, dragging his focus back towards the group. "How in the hell do we find this guy – you are all aware that there are at least a million coffee shops in this city?"

"Good point," Gabriel said quickly, "First we need to get a game plan – we are going to need an apartment, a couple laptops with internet access, basic surveillance equipment and Claire?"

"Hmm," Claire said turning her attention to Gabriel.

"We are going to need you to bait this guy, think you can act unattainable for an afternoon?"

Claire laughed and blew her bangs out of her eyes, smiling brightly.

"Can I do that? Please, consider it done."

"Peter, you can read minds right?" Peter snuck a glance over at Mohinder, who looked away guiltily.

"Yeah," Peter answered grudgingly.

"Good, you need to go in with Claire – but not with her understand, you are going to need to get into peoples' heads and let us on to this guy."

"This is a great plan Gabriel, but where in the hell do you and I fit in?" Mohinder interrupted. Gabriel smiled, a glint of the mischievous in his eye.

"When the time is right – you and I are going to put this bastard down, that's what we'll do."

"I take it you have a lot of experience planning missions." Peter said with a grudging respect for the quickness and precision in which Gabriel put together the scenario they were working with.

"No," Gabriel said, unable to resist a slight dig at Peter's expense, "this is actually my first."

Gabriel could feel rather then see Mohinder's grin at his response.


	9. Living with Ghosts

AN: As always a huge thanks to my amazing beta Motsureru

Chapter 9

Living with Ghosts

He hadn't meant for any of this to happen, but now that it had he couldn't stop.

It began with Cindy, a law student at Columbia. Cindy was a beautiful brunette with small wire framed glasses and the fullest, most beautiful lips he had ever seen.

It didn't take him long to notice her.

She came into the shop everyday at 10:00 am. Cindy always ordered a cup of green tea, and she liked both honey and sugar in it.

He liked everything about her. He liked her smile, a slow curl of lip over blinding white teeth. He liked her laugh, deep and full-bodied.

Most of all he liked Cindy because she was nice to him and she addressed him by the name on his tag. When she would say his name he nearly melted; nothing pleased him more than his own name forming on that too-perfect mouth of hers.

After a month, he was sure she liked him too.

One day he followed her from her internship (she had mentioned the law firm by name once or twice in passing) and found she lived in an apartment building only two blocks from the shop. He wanted to do something nice for her, since she was always so tired-looking. Cindy talked about her classes and the internship a lot; complaining that they left her drained and exhausted.

Therefore, in a burst of confidence he decided to visit her and surprise her with a present.

After all, they talked everyday when she came in to order her tea that made them friends, right?

He knocked on her door once, late night with some flowers. He had even gone to the trouble of putting on a jacket and cologne. She was the woman of his dreams and she actually talked to him; he wanted to look nice for her.

Cindy had opened the door wearing only her robe - eyes red and puffy from sleep.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, a note of incredulity in her voice.

He hadn't liked the look in her eyes, nor enjoyed her mouth nearly as much as he had even five minutes before, not when it was pressed into a thin, mean line.

"I-I brought I…"

"Flowers?"

She leaned against the door, pulling her robe tighter around herself.

"How did you know where I lived? Have you been following me?"

He found that he couldn't speak. He just stared at her stupidly as everything around her grew fuzzy and out of focus. He felt his body freeze, coldness seeming to seep into his pores, making his fingers and toes tingle as if they had fallen asleep.

"I'm sorry," he managed to get out.

"Thanks for the flowers," she said as she swiped them from him, the tips of her fingers brushing against his hand. "Real cute," she sneered.

Her callous words hit him like a punch in the gut, making him feel sick with humiliation and shame as she looked at him with revulsion in her large, brown eyes.

She went to step back, but froze as if suddenly nailed to the floor.

Her eyes got wide and before he could ask her what was wrong Cindy started choking -coughing and gasping for air.

"Cindy?"

He stepped into the apartment, the door closing shut behind him with a finality that seemed to reverberate through his entire being. From that point on everything seemed to slow down, as if he were moving underwater. He went to grab her by the shoulders, but as he touched her she started to turn blue in his hands, coughing and sputtering as her complexion turned from peaches and crème perfection to a sickening bluish-white. After an impossibly long moment, her eyes rolled back in her head and she simply _stopped_.

Everything grew still and the tingling sensation in his hands deepened until his hands were completely numb.

He released his grip on her and watched as she crumbled to the floor, eyes wide open and staring. The color slowly returned to her face no longer full of her contempt of him but beautiful, and at peace.

She was dead and the sensation in his hands had disappeared.

-----

Gabriel sat alone in his room with folders and paperwork spread out on the bed around him. It was getting quite late, the alarm clock by the bed reading 10:30.

He had spent the last several hours studying the case.

Gabriel wanted to make sure he left no room for error as each and every sweet, young face gracing the pages of these case files was starting to get to him. He wanted to make damn sure they got this guy before he hurt anyone else. Therefore, there could be no mistakes when it came to plotting out their strategy for the next day.

A sharp knock interrupted him.

"Yeah," he called as Claire popped her head into the room.

"Are you still at it?" She questioned as she leaned against the doorframe. Gabriel looked up from the mess on the bed and raked a hand through his hair. He nodded towards her, yawning as he did so.

"Yeah, I just wanted to make sure I was right about all this."

He started putting everything away. "I want to make sure we get this guy before he hurts someone else."

"Well, the case will still be here in the morning. Hungry?"

He nodded as he pushed off the bed, "Yeah, I could eat."

"Good 'cause Peter dragged Mohinder out for something or another and I absolutely hate eating by myself."

"Thanks, what are we having?"

"Pancakes and bacon."

"Pancakes and bacon sound great," Gabriel said with a grin, trying not to let Claire onto the fact that Mohinder and Peter off some place alone was eating away at him.

In fact, the more he tried to will away the mental image of Peter and Mohinder sitting across from one another in some small, intimate restaurant – complete with candle light and wine — the more it made him feel sick to his stomach. Still, his imagination wouldn't let it rest. Images of Peter leaning across the table to run his fingertips across Mohinder's knuckles, to stare deeply into his eyes, played themselves over and over again in his thoughts.

Gabriel followed Claire down the long hallway and into the kitchen. She got their plates together and carried them to the table. Gabriel watched in amazement as she popped open a can of soda and nearly drained it in two long sips. Gabriel smiled as she dug into her pancakes after coating them in a thick river of maple syrup and butter.

"Your eating habits are appalling," he said teasingly, "I think in the last few days I haven't seen you touch anything that even remotely resembled a vegetable or a fruit."

"Well, I'll have you know," Claire laughed, "My muffin this morning had blueberries in it and last time I checked, asshole, that counts as a fruit."

"Oh really, blueberries," he kidded. Claire reached across her plate to swipe him on the arm.

"Yeah, blueberries – shut the hell up!" Gabriel held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Okay, you got me – I apologize, Claire Bennett does not eat like a bulimic truck driver."

"Thank you," Claire said as she cut off another huge piece of pancake and crammed it into her mouth.

"I just have a healthy appetite, I think it was from those years training when we ate nothing but grilled chicken and brown rice."

She told him through a mouthful as she shuddered at the memory.

"I didn't mind, I like chicken and brown rice," Gabriel said as he crunched on a piece of bacon.

"But, God, not as much as this," Gabriel grinned, savoring a mouthful.

"Amen," Claire seconded.

There was a brief pause before Claire spoke again. "You know I'm really sorry about how Peter behaved today."  
"You don't need to apologize for him," Gabriel answered quickly, his eyes not quite meeting hers as he busied himself reaching for a napkin.

"I know I don't…"

"He has a right though, doesn't he? I deserve it don't I?" Gabriel continued.

Claire shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

'That's not for me to say."

"But it's the truth," Gabriel observed as he pushed his food around with this fork. For the time being his appetite was gone.

"He loves Mohinder and I hurt Mohinder - badly… I deserve it and worse I am sure." He looked up long enough to take in the sad expression on Claire's usual cheerful face. "Claire, what was Mohinder like before?"

Claire looked up for her plate.

"Before?" Claire said.

"Before me," he answered quietly.

"I really don't know," Claire replied as she put her fork down. "I didn't know him then."

Gabriel shifted and looked away. He turned his head back as he felt Claire place her hand over his.

"He's been through a lot since then. There was a little girl who Mohinder tried to save, but she was very sick and she died."

"Mohinder had a daughter?"

'No, but she might as well have been, she – she was an orphan."

"Oh wow," Gabriel said, as he pushed his plate away.

"Yeah, he took it very hard, blamed himself for her death."

"I can see it in his eyes, you know?" Gabriel whispered softly.

Claire nodded, agreeing.

"Yeah, well in the last fours years – nothing has been exactly normal for any of us. We all have our secrets, our hurts. None of us- even you- escaped from Kirby Plaza unscathed."

"That's the place where I was stabbed, where I nearly died?"

Claire nodded, "Yeah, well, we all almost died that day."

Gabriel watched as her brow furrowed. She looked away, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. "I don't remember any of it," Gabriel told her, almost wishing she would elaborate, but also terrified of what she might reveal if she did.

Claire wasn't going to tell him much- that was clear as she offered him a small grin in response.

"That's probably for the best," she said as she stood, took both their plates and carried them over to the sink.

"What were you like back then?" Gabriel asked her as she turned and looked over her shoulder. She chewed on her lip for a moment before she answered him.

"I was naïve and… scared," she replied.

"What about now?"

"Just scared," Claire admitted.

"You don't seem scared," he said, noticing the tears that had started to well up in her eyes.

"Claire, what is it, are you alright?" Gabriel was at her side in an instant. Though hesitant, he rubbed her shoulders as she put her face in her hands and cried.

"I'm sorry, I'm such an idiot," Claire wept. Gabriel ran and fetched her a paper towel, which she thanked him for, and blew her nose.

"Are you okay?"

"It's just – I joined this organization to do good but sometimes it gets to me and I wonder if I am strong enough to keep fighting, to just keep going…"

"You want life to be normal," Gabriel finished for her.  
He understood probably better than she thought for someone who could only remember the last four years of their life.  
"Yeah," she said as she gave him a half smile, "But good luck with that, huh? We are not normal – any of us, we can't be civilians not after what we've seen, the things we have done."

"Normal, it's a nice concept though," Gabriel told her in a quiet tone.

Claire nodded, the tears flowing down her pretty face.

"Yeah, it is but it's not us, it's not me - we don't really exist Gabriel, any of us - we are just ghosts and I don't know about you but sometimes I get sick of living on the periphery."

Her word hit home.

Gabriel nodded, swallowed back a lump forming as he drew her into his arms, and hugged her.

It was comforting, he realized, being held - holding someone. He could not remember the last time he had held anyone.

It was a nice feeling- _safe_.

"Thank you," he whispered and she pulled back slightly, looked at him.

"For what?"

"For treating me like a real person."

She smiled and hugged him all the tighter in response.

"That's because you are a _real _person," she said.

----

"You haven't touched your dinner," Peter commented as he leaned across the table towards Mohinder. Mohinder looked up as if surprised to find himself sitting with someone; he'd been deep in his thoughts. Mohinder blinked and drew his gaze back towards Peter. He reached for his water glass, took a long swallow, and sat it back down before responding.

"I'm fine," Mohinder answered quickly, "Dinner's fine," he added, lamely.

"You're not still mad at me, are you?" Peter questioned.

"No, not mad – it's just that things are difficult enough Peter, without you…"

"What? Making things worse?"

Mohinder nodded. "It's not like I don't understand…"

"But, even I see the change. He is a different person."

"I don't want to talk about him," Peter said softly as he leaned across the table. His hand rested on Mohinder's own.

"I want to talk about us."

Mohinder slid his hand away, "I think we should get the check now," he said, not wanting to travel the never-ending circle that was him and Peter once more.

Mohinder knew he owed Peter a lot. Peter had seen him through the darkest days of his life and had somehow pulled him out of them.

Mohinder knew Peter loved him, but Mohinder also knew he didn't _love _Peter to the same extent, and never would.

It was unfair to make Peter believe otherwise and yet, no matter how many times Mohinder tried to tell Peter these things, nothing he said made a bit of difference.

Peter still kept trying and it was starting to wear Mohinder down.

The truth was he had missed being with someone, companionship - having a steady lover in his life, when he thought of those things his mind always flashed back to that all too brief night he had spent with 'Zane Taylor' in Montana.

And as always, the memory of it would bring forth pain, anger, and such raw hurt that he knew as much as he tried pretending it didn't matter, he wasn't completely free of the memory of that night or the man who had tricked him into believing that it could have been real.

Peter took his hand away, and something dark and hurtful flashed in his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. Putting his hand to his face, he sighed deeply.

"I was wrong wasn't I?" Peter asked as he looked back to Mohinder.

Mohinder just shook his head at that. To be honest he was getting annoyed with Peter. Mohinder had tried to make him realize that he was no good for anyone. He must have been out of his mind to accept Peter's dinner invitation in the first place.

"In case you forgot Peter, I can't read minds, so would mind telling me what are you talking about?"

Mohinder watched as Peter's face crumbled, strong emotion overtaking the other man.

"I was wrong," Peter said softly, his voice thick with emotion, "I honestly thought with time – you might put all that behind you, _him_ – Molly…"

The sound of her name hit Mohinder hard. That was one subject that he refused to discuss with Peter.

Even now four years later, the memory of that sad, sweet face and those big haunted eyes of hers were enough to send a thunderbolt of pain right through his heart.

Mohinder slammed his hands onto the table – causing a wine glass to spill and the silverware to jump. People turned to stare, whispering amongst themselves.

"You keep her name out of this, do you hear me?" Mohinder whispered hotly as he stood up and slammed his chair into the table.

"And as for him – I am over that – I have _been_ over that, so don't act as if you know something I don't."

Peter leaned across the table and refused to break the stare down between them.

"I know you are still in love with him," Peter whispered hatefully, "And the sad thing is it doesn't even take a mind reader to know it."

Mohinder gave him a disgusted look before grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and storming out the restaurant, nearly colliding into the concerned maitre'd on his way out.

----

Gabriel was at the kitchen sink washing dishes and Claire was making them coffee when they heard the sound of the front door slamming shut. Angry voices filtered in from the front hall, moving into the living room. Gabriel turned off the water, and reached for a hand towel, and dried his hands.

"That doesn't sound like it went well," Claire murmured. Claire started towards the living room to see what the commotion was but was stopped by Peter appearing at the kitchen door.

"Where is he?"

"Peter, what the hell are you doing…"

Peter pushed past her as she whirled around after him. Peter stormed further into the kitchen, his eyes flashing pure venom as he spotted Gabriel and stalked towards him. Peter's face was bright red with anger as he grabbed a handful of Gabriel's shirt, twisting a fistful of it and slamming him hard against the side of the wall.

"I have something I need to say to you," Peter shouted furiously.

On pure instinct alone, Gabriel kicked Peter's leg out from under him, grabbing his left hand and twisting it behind his back as he fell.

"Fine, but you keep your hands off me when you do it," Gabriel told him through gritted teeth, shoving Peter down and away from him.

Gabriel released his grip on Peter and backed up. He could feel his own blood beginning to boil, a realization that unnerved him. He closed his eyes, tried to breathe deeply as he had been taught and not let Peter get to him.

Peter stood up slowly, shook out his hand.

"You're lucky I can heal you asshole, "

Peter sneered as he turned back to Gabriel. Each wanted nothing more than to fling the other man across the room, and they would have if the company didn't strictly forbid using their abilities outside a job.

Mohinder had been in the doorway watching the exchange, dumbstruck at the ease and precision with which Gabriel had knocked Peter off balance and gotten the upper hand.

Now common sense was creeping in. He knew he had better get in there and get between them before they simply threw the rules out the window and went at one another with everything they had. Mohinder knew, that would only end in disaster for all concerned.

Mohinder quickly crossed the room and stepped between the two men, arms held out. "You both need to stop this right now!" he told them, hoping that he projected enough authority to stop them both from taking it a step farther.

"What the hell is that matter with you?" Mohinder shouted whirling on Peter and shoving him back.

"With me?" he asked furious, a bitter laugh, "Oh that's good – with me?"

"You are the one storming in here and trying to start a fight."

Gabriel just hung back watching the exchange for a moment. Without a word he turned and went to his room and started packing his things.

Claire followed after him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm leaving," he said simply as he flung his suitcase onto the bed and started tossing his shirts into it.

"You can't do that!"

"Yeah, I can," Gabriel replied, going to the closet to get the rest of his clothes.

Gabriel had had enough. There had been a minute there when he had truly wanted to hurt Peter and it scared him. He couldn't stay here and do something else he would regret or that Mohinder would hate him for even more.

"Look, I am not staying here with him for even a second longer than I have to."

"He'll get over it," Claire tried to reassure him she started removing the items he had begun to pack. Gabriel stood back, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

"Would you stop it Claire? I am leaving and that's that – I can't – I just can't do this anymore."

Claire tossed the shirts in her hand on to the bed. She looked angry enough to hit him.

"So that's it, you just give up!"

"You have a better idea?" Gabriel fired back.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do," Claire whispered hotly, "You stay and you fight and you prove to both of them, to yourself, that you are a different person, a better one."

Gabriel just shook his head at that and started throwing everything back into the suitcase, this time not even bothering to fold anything.

"And what if I'm not Claire, what if he's still in me - huh? What if he comes back?"

"That isn't going to happen, I won't let it."

Claire said, trying to reason with him. She stepped around the bed and went to his side, laying a concerned and comforting hand on his arm.

"You have spent four years training for this, don't give up now."

Gabriel sighed and shook his head as if trying to clear it of his still nagging doubts.

"I'm drowning, Claire," he whispered, "That's what this feels like – like I am trying to breathe and I can't, I'm suffocating."

"You just need to stay strong…don't give up."

There was a knock on the door. Gabriel and Claire turned towards it as Mohinder pushed it open and stepped in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," Mohinder said, speaking quickly as he looked from one worn out face to the other.

"It's alright," Claire replied, stepping back from Gabriel and turning her attention to Mohinder.

"I was just trying to talk some sense into him," Claire said, throwing a pointed look in Gabriel's direction. "Maybe you can do better," Claire added as she stepped back from Gabriel and went to the door.

Gabriel went to speak but stopped, "I'm sorry," he told her.

Claire nodded but didn't respond as she moved past Mohinder, who turned and closed the door behind Claire, stepped farther into the room.

"You can't be serious about leaving," Mohinder stated, watching as Gabriel started folding the clothes that Claire had tossed onto the bed, started placing them back into the suitcase more neatly.

"I am," Gabriel told him as he closed the case, zipping it up. "I should go."

"Where are you going to go?"

"I don't know," Gabriel answered solemnly, "Back to the company I suppose– I just I know I have done enough to you, to all of you – you don't need me in your face day in and day out."

"So that's it?"

Gabriel hoisted the bag off the bed and moved past Mohinder.

"Yeah, that's it," Gabriel said bitterly.

Gabriel stopped in surprise when he felt Mohinder grab hold of him.

"No," Mohinder said forcefully, his fingers sinking into the flesh of Gabriel's forearm.

"You are not leaving, we need you here."

"You don't need me," Gabriel scoffed, shaking his hand off, "You'll do just fine without me."

"I don't think that's true," Mohinder responded softly.

Gabriel looked away, stepping back.

"Please Gabriel, don't go."

Gabriel turned to him and Mohinder was so close, inches from him and once more the urge was there to take him in his arms and simply lay his lips against Mohinder's own.

The need for him was so overpowering that Gabriel could feel his knees weaken with it.

"Do you mean that?" Gabriel managed to ask.

Mohinder nodded, as he reached over and took the suitcase from Gabriel's hands, the tips of his fingers brushing Gabriel's own.

Mohinder met his eyes, both sickened and overwhelmed with the realization that after everything he still hungered for him - mourned for what they could have had but lost.

"I do."

Gabriel nodded, swallowing thickly.

"Alright," he said quietly, "if you want me to, I'll stay."

------

"This has got to be the stupidest idea ever," Peter complained as he and Claire prepared themselves to enter what would be the eighth coffee shop of the day.

"Would you shut up, already," Claire hissed at him as she adjusted her ear piece.

"You guys there?"

In a car parked a block down, Gabriel adjusted his own ear piece and looked to Mohinder sitting in the drivers seat beside him.

"Yeah, we got you guys, all clear," Gabriel told her.

"Copy."

Claire turned back to Peter standing on the corner with her, half a block from the entrance.

"Alright, I'm going in," Claire said as she left her uncle behind and made her way towards the shop.

"Yeah, and be sure to let me know if something interesting actually happens!" Peter called to her retreating back.

"Fuck off!" Claire answered, turning around long enough to give him the finger.

Gabriel and Mohinder turned to one another as they listened in on the exchange.

"He isn't liking this," Gabriel told Mohinder after he disbanded the two way in his ear piece. Mohinder did the same, turning in his seat to address Gabriel.

"Don't worry, he's just being…"

"An asshole?"

"Stubborn," Mohinder finished, "We just hit a bit of a bump - we'll find him."

"I hope so," Gabriel told him, "If I'm wrong we wasted a lot of time on nothing."

"I don't think you're wrong," Mohinder said, looking away.

Gabriel found himself squirming in his seat. He found himself doing that a lot when placed in close proximity to Mohinder. Mohinder seemed to feel the same way, though he was better at hiding it.

"Hope Claire gets me that espresso I asked her for," Mohinder murmured, as he leaned against the window, resting on his elbow.

"What is that, your third?"

"Yeah," Mohinder said as he looked over towards Gabriel.

"Why am I shaking or something?"

"Close enough," Gabriel told him.

There was an awkward silence that followed as they each sat there, impatiently.

Finally Peter came back on.

"Alright, I am going in now to waste another half hour of my life, you two all set?"

"You're good," Gabriel told him.

Then he looked back to Mohinder.

"He's really got it in for me, doesn't he?"

Mohinder gave him a half smile as he leaned back on his elbow and sighed loudly.

"I'd say," he replied.

-------

Claire stepped into the coffee shop, a bag full of textbooks not stopping her from walking in with a confident stride.

Instantly, every guy in the place turned to give her a look once over as she waltzed into the place wearing form-fitting jeans and a clinging, red sweather wrap that showed off her curves.

She sauntered up to the counter and was greeted by a young man with a sweet round face and an abundance of freckles.

"W-what can I get you?" He stuttered and then blushed. He looked as if wanting to disapear further into his oversized tee-shirt.

Claire grinned at him as she leaned across the counter exposing plenty of cleveage.

"Can I have a second?" She asked sweetly as she caught where his gaze had landed and pretended to be embarassed.

The guy nodded, flustered as she straightened.

Claire studied the menu, "Let me get a vanilla latte, please" she said as the guy gave her a small smile, blushing once more when she returned it.

"One vanilla latte, coming up."

Claire was just thanking the guy for her coffee when Peter strode in and got in line behind her.

"What can I get you?"

The guy behind the counter asked him relucantly turning his gaze away from Claire. The name tag he wore identifying him as Randy.

"Let me get an iced coffee," Peter told the guy as they locked eyes and realization hit.

It was one stray thought but it was enough to send ice water through Peter's veins.

_She's perfect...just like the others...so beautiful..._

He felt his stomach drop as the guy broke the stare and turned for one last look at Claire.

"Yeah, sure," Randy replied as he turned away from her and went to get Peter's drink.

As soon as the guy disappeared into the back to fetch something, Peter turned into his coat, addressing them all through their headsets.

"I think we got the bastard," he said.


	10. Countdown

Part10  
Countdown

**Summary:** The group has found their killer but things go wrong when they disagree over who the killer's intended victim is...

**AN:** A huge thank you to my awesome beta Motsureru, who made me edit this more then I would have liked grins But, in the end was spot on with her input and her wonderful edits. Thank you so much 

"So basically, what you're telling me is this guy already has someone in mind?" Claire asked as she met up with Peter on the nearest street corner, respective beverages in hand.

Peter nodded as he stepped aside for a middle-aged woman walking her dogs and a pair of giggling teenage girls.

"Yeah, except all I got was a name: Anna. That was it, just a first name, but he's planning on going after her – I heard him – he said, 'Maybe after Anna this one will do'."

Claire suppressed a shudder at that as together they started down the crowded city street, side-stepping people in their haste to get back to where Gabriel and Mohinder were parked, waiting for them.

"Christ, Peter that could be anyone," Claire scowled, "What are we supposed to do, stand outside the coffee shop and ask every girl who walks in what her name is?"

Peter paused for a moment and stepped into the empty doorway of a bank so they could get out of the way of the midday crowds.

"There's got to be a better idea," Peter said, thinking hard, "This guy isn't playing, he knows who he wants next and if we don't stop him he will kill her."

Claire didn't like the sound of this. Her gaze drifted towards the many young women who passed them, suddenly fully aware of what they were up against. The city was full of potential victims; any one of the many attractive young women strolling past could be the killer's newest target. The thought filled Claire with a sickening dread.

Now that they had a likely suspect, Claire for one was a bit mystified as to how this guy had started killing in the first place- he seemed so ordinary with his too-big tee shirt and nervous grin. Almost too much so.

Then again, Claire was well aware that appearances were deceiving; she may have been young, but she had lived enough in her short years to know better.

"I just hope Gabriel helps us figure something out," Claire said, running a nervous hand through her shoulder-length hair.

Pete laughed out loud at that, raising a sarcastic eyebrow as he did so.

Claire threw him a dirty look, but as usual it was ignored.

"You know, we would never have gotten this far without him, so maybe you should give him a break."

Claire huffed as she started away from him, pushing once more through the crowds. Peter groaned and hurried after her, quickly falling into step beside her.

"So says the girl who watched her best friend get her head sliced off by the guy," Peter countered in a voice low enough for only her to hear.

Claire was tired of it all. Stopping dead in her tracks, she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her.

"No, that was someone else, and hell, even Mohinder is starting to see that."

Claire watched something dark and at the same time terribly sad cross Peter's expression.

He shook her hand off.

"That's because Mohinder has always been a blind idiot when it comes to him."

"No, I think Mohinder may be the only one of us who actually knew Gabriel before any of this…"

"Trust me, Gabriel is every bit as manipulative as Sylar, if not more so." Peter replied, a strange look in his eye as he turned and started away. Claire had no choice but to reluctantly follow after him.

--

Peter and Claire were barely on speaking terms when they finally made it back to where Gabriel and Mohinder were parked on a side street waiting for them.

An icy silence followed them as they climbed into the back seat of the car. Mohinder turned around to address them.

Claire slammed her door shut and then proceeded to move as far away from Peter as possible.

Mohinder decided for the time being to ignore the obvious tension, turning matters quickly to the job.

"So, how positive are we?"

"I'd say definitely, it's him," Peter replied confidently as Mohinder looked over at Claire for her opinion. Claire, however, was busy sulking in her seat, arms folded across her chest. Claire's expression was stony as she looked out the window.

Gabriel busied himself studying them both in the review mirror, curious as to what had happened once they left the shop and disabled their respective com links.

"You alright, Claire?" Gabriel asked, concerned.

Claire looked up and locked eyes with him.

"I'm fine but I'll feel a hell of a lot better once we get this guy off the street."

Mohinder nodded and slid back into his seat, shifting to get comfortable.

"Agreed, what ideas do we have?" Mohinder asked, all business.

"I say we grab him," Peter said quickly. Claire turned to him and threw him a disgusted look.

"He can kill by touch – hello?"

"And you of all people should know I can heal!" Peter said, rolling his eyes at her.

"Besides, you know I didn't mean that literally - you're just looking for a fight!"

Claire's scowl deepened as Gabriel, still eying her in the mirror, watched her hands curl themselves into tight fists.

She was literally shaking with anger.

Gabriel couldn't help but secretly wish that Claire would turn around and knock Peter off his arrogant ass. He fought back the urge to laugh out loud at such a thought.

"Oh you'd love that wouldn't you, Gabriel?" Peter huffed. Gabriel realized too late that Peter was reading his mind.

Mohinder jumped in quickly, not wishing for the situation to escalate to a full out fight.

"Alright, enough everyone…we have a job to do, remember?"

There was a collective sigh from the group and some grumbling, but for the moment the crisis seemed to be averted.

Satisfied, Mohinder turned back once more to address Peter and Claire.

"Claire is right in a way Peter, we can't exactly say how long you'll be down if he lays even a finger on you, so we can't chance any of us getting too close to the guy – we still don't know how exactly his ability works. We have to approach the situation as carefully as possible."

"So we wait for him to leave work and then we tranq the guy," Peter said easily.

"Um, where in the world do you suppose we do that where a million New Yorkers aren't going to walk by and see us hauling some guy off in a van?" Gabriel countered.

Gabriel could feel Peter bristle with anger in response.

"Okay, well, what's your bright idea then?"

"We trail him to this girl's apartment and we get him before he gets her…"

"We have no idea when he's planning that," Peter objected.

"Well then, Peter," Mohinder interrupted, "With the million tricks you have up your sleeve I am sure you can help us figure something out."

"Wait, what else can you do?" Gabriel questioned.

"What, Gabriel?" Peter spat, "Did you think you were the only one around here who could perform more than one trick?"

"Yeah, kind of like a circus poodle," Claire quipped, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

"Just shut up Claire," Peter replied, irritated.

"Tell me to shut up again, Peter Petrelli, and I swear I'll turn you into a fucking girl," Claire seethed through gritted teeth as she whirled around at him, eyes flashing with anger.

This time both Gabriel and Mohinder shared a grin at Claire's remark.

Mohinder had to look away, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

"Alright, enough," Mohinder said, trying to keep composure.

"Mohinder's right, the thing is we can't let him out of our sight from this point on," Gabriel said quickly. "So from this moment on we keep tabs on him and wait for him to lead us to Anna., whoever she is."

----

Anna Matthews had a long, rough day at work and as usual she was bone-tired from being on her feet all day long. As if that wasn't bad enough, she was emotionally drained from dealing with her ex-boyfriend _and_ her boss, Chuck. He refused to accept that it was over between them, a fact she found especially exasperating considering the circumstances in which they had broken up. Seriously, she thought, was she _really_ supposed to overlook the fact that she had caught him in bed with her sister?

Sighing loudly, she lifted a handful of sweaty blonde hair off the back of her neck and wiped away some of the grunginess of the workday with a damp paper towel. She tossed it into the waste basket beside her as she removed her apron, tossing it into her locker in the break room. She was glad for the time being to see it gone. Sighing once, more she picked up her hairbrush and turned to the small mirror inside her locker. Then, removing her hair from a ponytail, she started brushing out the tangled mess of her hair, gritting her teeth through each snarl and knot she unraveled.

She then reached for some powder and patted the shine off her nose, each little ritual helping to relax her and make her feel better about her rotten day.

She added some lip gloss, spreading it on her index finger and running it across her lips. Well, she didn't look exactly great, but she did look passable – especially for someone who had spent eight hours on their feet bringing ungrateful rich people their overpriced entrees all night.

Eager to get home, she hastily stepped out from the backroom and nearly collided with Chuck coming in to find her in what was probably another lame, last ditch attempt to win her back.

"Are you in some kind of rush, Anna?" Chuck asked, raising an eyebrow arrogantly.

Anna sighed and stepped past him, but he was quick to block her movement, putting his large, muscled bulk between her and the exit. Annoyed, she tossed back her hair and gave him a withering glare.

"Come on, Chuck – let me go, I reek like grease and old people and I just want to get a coffee and go home."

"You want me to come by later, tuck you in?" He teased as he stepped closer.

Anna made a face as she side-stepped him, elbowing him out of her way as she did so. "Um, no," she said sarcastically.

"You know you miss this!" Chuck taunted.

"Yeah, like a hole in the head…"

Anna grumbled under her breath as she shook her head at his nerve. She made her way out of the nearly empty restaurant, waving goodbye to a fellow waitress as she pushed open the heavy glass doors and headed out onto the street. She adjusted her red cardigan around her thin shoulders and, pulling up the collar, braved the cold fall evening. Her destination was gratefully only a block up from where she worked.

Her thoughts for the time being were on a nice hot cup of coffee and a good murder mystery she had waiting at home. Anna went to open the door to the shop when it flew open suddenly, startling her from her reverie. Her handbag, which she had left open, swung out of her hand, littering the air with fallen debris.

"Oh shit," she muttered, scrambling as the guy who had nearly knocked her over started to apologize while bending down to help her retrieve her spilled items.

"Oh, hey sorry about that," the guy said as he swooped down to pick up a bottle of hand lotion and her tube of lip gloss that was rolling away from the scene towards the gutter.

Anna moved to take her things from him. Straightening, she found herself blushing when they made eye contact. He wasn't very tall, but then neither was she. Still, he was definitely good looking, probably in his early thirties, although he looked younger.

He gave her a lopsided grin and apologized once more.

Anna only smiled at the good looking guy as he handed her her things, watching as she shoved them nervously into her handbag.

"It's okay," Anna responded, "Accidents happen."

"Yeah, that they do," he said as he gave her another gorgeous grin in response.

She knew she was blushing something fierce as she returned his smile.

"By the way, I'm Peter," the guy said, holding out a hand to her.

Anna nodded, "I'm Anna," Peter held open the door for her.

"Can I at least buy you a coffee?" he asked. She nodded, stepping into the warm shop.

"Sure," she said. Thoughts of Chuck and her hellish workday seemed to evaporate.

"Great," Peter said warmly. As he glanced up and saw Randy. He stood behind the counter, staring at the two of them.

His look was tense, and Peter didn't have to read minds to know he was none too thrilled to see her walk in with him.

_All she needs is some guy …giving her more trouble…_

Peter caught quickly from Randy's stray thoughts. That was pretty ironic, Peter thought as he led Anna up to the counter, considering that he was planning on killing her tonight.

----

Meanwhile, Gabriel and Mohinder sat across the street, watching as Claire sent them an instant message from the laptop she was using inside the shop.

_He found her…_

Mohinder breathed a sigh of relief as he read the message, turning in the cramped space of the car to share the good news with Gabriel.

"Peter found her," Mohinder told him.

Gabriel looked over to him and then back in the direction of the shop. He didn't respond, only continued looking through the plate glass windows, brows knitted in thought as he watched Peter stroll up to the counter with a smiling blonde. Something wasn't right. Gabriel didn't know how to articulate it, but it was there, the feeling that something was off.

Mohinder wasn't sure what he was staring so intensely at, or what had him so deep in thought that he hadn't responded to the news they had waited all day for.

Perplexed, Mohinder turned back to his laptop.

_Great, keep watching…_

Mohinder typed back to Claire. He then looked over at Gabriel's dark expression, watched his profile as he let out a sigh of annoyance when a group of people passed by the plate glass windows of the shop, blocking his view.

Gabriel reached for the door handle and stepped out of the vehicle, clearly agitated about something.

Mohinder leaned across the seat. "What is it, Gabriel?"

Mohinder called after him as he started across the busy road and towards the shop.

Gabriel didn't respond as he hurried across and stopped a few feet from the curb.

A taxi whizzed past, blaring its horn, driver yelling something. Gabriel barely registered any of it.

"He's wrong," Gabriel said to himself, "He's not interested in her.. He's…"

Gabriel's voice trailed off as he scanned the interior of the shop. Then he saw her.

The girl was a lovely young brunette who sat at alone at a table tucked into the far corner of the shop, her text books splayed out around her and a large coffee mug by her side. Gabriel watched as she reached back to tie up her long brown hair with a rubber band, letting out a yawn she leaned back, cracking her knuckles before returning to her school work. He lifted his eyes from the girl's hunched-over form, moving his gaze past a trio of college students ordering coffee. Barely breathing, he moved his gaze over to the side of them and saw Randy; he was fiddling with an espresso machine, but his attention was elsewhere. He was too busy staring at _her. _The look on his face was almost serene, almost peaceful. He seemed to stand completely still, as if glued to where he stood and just watching her as she lifted the over-sized mug to her lips and blew into it. She took small hesitant sips from her beverage before setting it back down again. It was then that Gabriel knew. He knew he was not mistaken about that mad glint in Randy's eye or what it all meant. Gabriel felt a sick sense of knowing just what Randy was thinking, of recognizing that wild and predatory stare as the young man studied and filed away every move this girl made.

A pit of unease settled itself into Gabriel's gut.

Gabriel looked back to the car and saw that Mohinder was watching him, his expression curious and a bit uneasy as he gestured for Gabriel to come back.

Gabriel headed over to him, opened the driver side and slid in, slamming the door shut behind him. Gabriel turned in his seat to look at Mohinder.

"Now, what in the hell was that all about?" Mohinder demanded.

Gabriel sighed, "I had to be sure…"

"Sure about what?" Mohinder asked, his curiosity growing as well as his concern over the dark, almost frightened expression on Gabriel's face.

"We have the wrong girl," Gabriel whispered.

"Peter said…"

"No, Peter is wrong – it's that girl right over there," Gabriel insisted as he pointed to the one with the long dark hair, who was now pulling out yet another text book from the over-stuffed bag beside her.

Mohinder just looked at him and then back into the shop. Gabriel watched as a mix of emotion danced across the other man's usual stoic expression. Gabriel was reluctant to tell him just what he was thinking, knowing that what he would say would be the last thing in the world Mohinder would want to hear from him. Gabriel sighed and leaned with his head against the glass. The gesture only further aroused Mohinder's curiosity over Gabriel's strange behavior. After a long moment, Mohinder finally had to ask, "How do you know?"

Gabriel swallowed hard, dreading the conversation that was coming.

"Because I know that look in his eyes. I know… because it's like…like looking into a mirror…into Sylar."

Gabriel saw his words hit Mohinder, watched him tremble and try to bury himself deeper in his coat in response to hearing that name spoken out loud.

Mohinder swallowed hard and looked away.

Gabriel wanted to say something; just the mention of that name had brought back some of the walls standing between them that they had managed to knock down.

Gabriel wanted to apologize, hating that a name. A person he could scarcely recall being could bring such a stricken and terrified look to Mohinder's face.

It struck a deep and painful chord in Gabriel, so much so that he could he feel his eyes whelm up with tears.

He fought them back and struggled to regain his composure. As much as he wanted to tell Mohinder he was sorry, sorry for everything - for things he had no memory of - now was not the time for apologies.

Gabriel reached for the door handle, only to feel Mohinder's hand on his arm.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know but, I need your help Mohinder. Have Claire get me an address, then I need both her and Peter to meet in the back of the shop near the dumpster in ten minutes."

Mohinder started to protest but Gabriel stopped him, covering Mohinder's hand with his own.

"Please Mohinder, I need you to trust me…"

Mohinder only nodded, and he lightly squeezed Gabriel's hand before releasing it.

Their eyes met and held one another in the darkened interior of the car. Gabriel was the first to look away, reaching for the handle of the door.

"Don't worry I'll be back," he assured Mohinder as he jumped out of the car and hurried across the street.

Mohinder only shook his head in response and quickly set about relaying the message to Claire.

---

The back alley was desolate and dark, lit only by a nearby street light. Hovering by a dumpster that reeked of urine and God knew what else, an antsy and nervous Gabriel waited for Claire and Peter to show up.

Claire was the first one outside, which wasn't surprising. Gabriel knew she wouldn't let him down. Claire shivered as she stepped out of the heavy metal doors and into the chilled night air. She started buttoning up her coat as she peered out in the darkness, spotting Gabriel who quickly stepped towards her.

"I got it," she said, "I am pretty sure she thought I was a whack job, but I got it out of her just the same."

Gabriel breathed into his hands, rubbing them together in an attempt to keep warm.

"God, you're good to know," Gabriel said gently, "Thank you."

Claire smiled, "Yeah, I am a can-do kind of person, nice to have one us around, huh?"

"Yeah, definitely," Gabriel said sincerely, giving her a warm smile.

"Alright, so what have you got?"

"Want me to write it down?"

Gabriel gave her a small grin as he pulled up the collar of his thin overcoat in an attempt to block out the wind chill.

"Photographic memory, remember?" he replied casually.

"Ah, yes - that's a good one, okay here it is: it's110th street, building 390 and she is on the 3rd floor, her first name is Angela.

"That's pretty close to Anna," Gabriel said, thoughtfully - mentally storing the information away.

"Yeah, it is, wow…Are you sure it's her?"

"Yeah, I'd stake my life on it."

"That would be all well and good but what's your life worth these days?" Claire joked.

Gabriel smiled in response.

He touched a finger to the com set in his ear as he addressed Mohinder back at the car.

"Did you get that?" He asked his waiting partner.

"Yes, got it."

"Can you see Peter, Mohinder?"

Gabriel asked. Claire stood beside him shivering.

"He just got up, he should be on his way outside any minute."

"Alright. Listen, I am just getting a lot of static on my end - I think something isn't working quite right, so I am disabling now. If anything changes let Claire know, copy?"

"I copy," Mohinder answered, but there was a note of distrust in his voice as he responded.

Gabriel disbanded his com link, looking back at a confused Claire.

"Your set isn't broken is it?"

"No," Gabriel said quickly, "I figured I'd save Mohinder some grief."

Claire raised an eyebrow. Gabriel sighed, squaring back his shoulders as he started to explain himself.

"It's probably not going to be pretty when he gets out here, so I figured it would be better if Mohinder didn't have to listen to it." Gabriel explained.

"Yeah, good idea," Claire said, agreeing.

"Yeah, anyway, Peter should be out here soon," Gabriel informed Claire, who was busy shifting from one foot to the other in an attempt to keep warm.

"He better," she said, "God, just think - a couple of days ago and I was in short-shorts. Now, I need a goddamn parka."

"You want my coat?" Gabriel asked politely as he started to shrug it off.

Claire seemed amused by the gesture.

"Chivalry is dead Gabriel, didn't you get the memo?"

"Must have missed it," he said easily, as he watched her shiver again.

"Are you sure?" Gabriel insisted.

"Of course, it's not like I am going to die of frostbite or anything," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"By the way, you alright?"

Gabriel nodded, "Fine," he answered.

Yet, inside he was a coiled up mess of nerves. He was so wound up he could barely stand still, so he started pacing the side of the building from the back entrance to the dumpster and then back again.

Claire watched, fascinated.

"Christ, Gabe - what's with the speed-walking?"

"Nerves, I guess. Well that and it's goddamn cold out here."

It was then that Peter came stumbling out of the doors.

It was quite clear from both the surly look on his face and the cocky way in which he joined the group that he was good and pissed off.

"You better make this good," Peter said, ignoring Claire for the moment and coming towards Gabriel.

Bracing himself to deal with both Peter and his obvious attitude problem, Gabriel tried to make his expression as amicable as possible, though inside he was seething at the way in which Peter had spoken to him.

Gabriel took a deep breath.

"You have the wrong girl," he said quickly.

Peter just smirked at him, giving Claire a look like 'can you believe this shit.'

Gabriel was in no mood for Peter's attitude; that girl was going to die while he sat inside and drank coffee with the wrong one.

"Oh so you read minds now, huh?" Peter said, anger creeping into his voice.

"No - I never said I did. But it doesn't change the fact that you are wrong about this."

"Well, I'm not and you're jeopardizing this mission with your bullshit theories."

Peter had already started walking away.

"Besides, I have a girl waiting in there for me – Anna, mind you," Peter called over his shoulder, "Who Randy here hasn't stopped think inappropriate thoughts about since we walked in."

Gabriel went after him, putting himself between Peter and the door.

"It's not a theory - it's the goddamn truth. For God's sake, Peter just give me a chance…"

"You have to be fucking kidding me," Peter snarled.

"Look, I know you have reason to hate me…"

"You haven't the slightest idea why I hate you - and any other day I'd be happy to tell you."

Peter replied, something distinctly dark crossing his expression as he glared at the other man.

A stare down ensued. Claire cleared her throat and attempted to get between them.

"Look, Peter, just hear him out…"

Peter whirled around to face her.

"No, I am done with this conversation. Now I am getting back in there before she thinks I took off and goes home to get herself killed. Now get the fuck out of my way Gabriel, or I swear to God I will hurt you."  
Gabriel didn't budge. He knew Peter was probably fully capable of making him physically move, but Gabriel wasn't ready to back down.

Gabriel could feel his frustration growing to a fevered pitch, infuriated all the more by the way Peter continued to glare at him and refused to let him explain himself. Gabriel took a deep breath, shutting his eyes briefly as he lowered his hands to his sides and spoke once more.

"Peter, this girl's blood is on you, not me. You're about to condemn an innocent girl to death."

The words seemed to strike a chord in Peter, one he disregarded quickly as he shook off Gabriel's words. His eyes narrowed with anger.

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" he glowered.

Gabriel felt as if his spine had been doused in ice water. He pulled himself up to his full height and met the younger man's hard stare. He went to speak when Claire suddenly looked around her, her expression growing alarmed.

"Whoa wait," she said suddenly. They looked at her as she put her hand to her head, listening.

"Wait… Mohinder…wait just one minute…"

There was silence for a moment.

"Goddamn it, Mohinder.. Mohinder?"

Gabriel was instantly alarmed.

"What is it?" "What the hell just happened, Claire?"

She turned back to them, her eyes wide.

"Mohinder went after them - seems the girl Gabriel had his eye on and Randy have suddenly…they're gone."

"Goddamn it!" Gabriel swore. As he went for the door, Peter stopped him.

"Yeah, you go after him. Be the big hero and when you come back here empty handed, the both of you are going to feel like assholes."

Gabriel spun around so quickly he caught Peter off guard, causing the other man to stumble back.

Gabriel's expression was a mask of seething fury, a fury he had long held in check.

His eyes narrowed as he got right in Peter's face, as he fought back not only the anger that surged through him, but also the cold fear that had started to lace itself in the pit of his gut at even the mere thought of anything happening to Mohinder.

"If Mohinder gets hurt because of your stubborn stupidity then I can guarantee you're going to get that fight you seem to want so fucking badly."

With that Gabriel turned back and went into the shop.

Claire went in after him.

"I am coming with you…"

Gabriel shook his head. "No, stay with Peter and make sure Anna Matthews is safe. I will be in touch with you soon."

As he started to walk away Claire called after him.

"Be safe, okay?"

He nodded, looking over his shoulder to address her.

"Yeah, you too…Don't worry, I'll get him back, I promise


	11. Truth and Lies

The Road to Redemption

Part 11

Truth and Lies

Summary: Gabriel confronts not only the killer at hand but the one within himself. Meanwhile, Claire's purpose within the group is revealed. 

""

AN: A HUGE thank you to my wonderful beta Motsureru who as usual wouldn't let anything past me - she is made of sheer win. 

Mohinder was too late, the girl was dead – sprawled across her pink down comforter with her legs dangling lifeless off the sides of the bed. Her once sweet, brown eyes lay wide open, staring at some unseen horror.

Mohinder could only cover his mouth with his hand as an overwhelming sense of failure filled him at the sight of this young girls' frozen expression. Gabriel had been right and now the realization that they had been too late to save her from her fate hit Mohinder with an aching sadness.

Mohinder stepped back from the grisly scene before him. His shaky hand went to reach into his coat pocket for his cell phone to call for back-up.

He stopped; hand hovering over the phone as the sound of a creaking floorboard made him hesitates in his tracks. Mohinder paused, as the unmistakable sound of ragged breathing indicated that someone was coming up behind him.

Mohinder whirled around to confront the oncoming intruder just in time to see a hand reach for him out of the murky shadows of the room. Mohinder stumbled back instinctively, almost falling on to both the bed and the young woman lying prostrate across it.

Mohinder skidded against the slick, hardwood floors, calves pressed against the metal frame of the bed as a man stepped out of the dimness. All Mohinder could see was the cold fury in his eyes as the tips of his fingers brushed against his throat, a gesture which elicited a gasp from Mohinder as he fell back across the edge of the bed, suddenly locked in a deadly struggle for his life.

Mohinder literally felt the air being pulled right from his body as he slid off the edge of the bed and hit the metal frame with a jarring clang. He looked up, eyes big and staring as he tried to gasp for breath that now seemed too far from his reach. His hands wrapped around his own throat as he tried to force air into his screaming lungs.

"How dare you ruin this? Who are you?"

The man demanded with a wild-eyed stare as he leaned forward towards Mohinder's gasping form.

Mohinder tried to move away from the man's outstretched fingers as a rolling darkness swept across his vision. Straining to keep consciousness, Mohinder desperately tried to keep calm and breathe, which allowed a trickle of much needed air into his dying lungs.

The man was coming at him now, hand outstretched as Mohinder scurried back as far as he could around the side of the bed.

Mohinder silently cursed himself then for being so foolish as to attempt this mission on his own. He had only wanted a chance to help, knowing that Peter would have fought Gabriel on this and time had been running out.

Yet, it didn't matter now if he failed, the girl was dead and he was all but done for.

"Don't you fucking move," a voice shouted from the open window behind Mohinder. The new presence caused Randy to jump back for only a moment before he reached down quickly to hurl Mohinder's weakened body up with him. The man threw Mohinder in front of him, holding a forearm against his neck. The gesture made breathing even more difficult for Mohinder, who could feel himself start to lose consciousness.

"Who the hell are you people, FBI?"

Randy shouted, franticness creeping into his voice as he pulled Mohinder tighter to him, for the time being keeping the full scope of his deadly power at bay.

Mohinder could see through his fogged vision and heaving breaths that it was Gabriel standing there, his dark eyes intense and focused in the meager moonlight.

Gabriel kept his gun leveled and steady as he took a cautious step towards them.

The deadly and confident glint in his eye was unmistakable.

_Sylar…_

"You come a step closer and I will kill this man!"

Mohinder even in his near state of unconsciousness could hear the fear overtaking him as he tried to back out of the room with Mohinder as a shield.

Gabriel stopped in his tracks and lowered his weapon down towards his side.

"I am going do you a favor here Randy," Gabriel said, his voice oozing confidence, "I am going to give you a chance to end this without winding up in a body bag."

A cold chill went through the room. Mohinder could feel the grip around his neck loosen a little in response.

Mohinder locked eyes with Gabriel for the briefest second.

In that second, it was as if Gabriel was in his mind, '_I am going to get you out of this.'_

Then Gabriel turned his focus back on Randy, giving him a look that could have frozen water - deadly and unflinching.

"I know you believe me - so don't make me prove it to you," Gabriel continued as he moved his weapon back up and into shooting position.

"I swear to god, I'll kill him - you come another step!" Randy shouted, as he shook Mohinder in front of him.

"You picked the wrong fucking hostage," Gabriel said softly, his words dripping with cold fury, "Anyone else and I'd put a simple bullet right through their heart to get to you - so let me phrase this carefully: you kill him and I kill you, painfully and fucking slow."

Randy sucked in a deep breath as he pulled Mohinder further back by his throat, holding him in his shaken and terrified grip.

Gabriel continued his slow and steady advance of them. He moved past the corner of the bed and continued to close the distance between both himself and Randy, who was backing up towards the door in response.

"Let him go, now."

Randy's only shook his head at that, as Mohinder suddenly succumbed to the wave of darkness that swept over him. His eyes rolled back and he slumped against Randy, now dead weight in the other man's arms.

Gabriel felt something inside him snap at the sight of Mohinder losing consciousness. A barely held in shadow surged through the surface and burst out of Gabriel before he had a chance to even contemplate the turn he was taking.

Gabriel used the force of his telekinesis to knock a distracted Randy back. Randy flew across the room, having not even a moment to cry out before he struck the far wall. Mohinder, in turn, fell helplessly to the floor in a seemingly lifeless heap.

Gabriel started towards Randy, rage filling him and twisting his whole demeanor and stance into a vision of long-held evil, before it overtook him completely.

Randy was just scrambling to his feet, dazed and shaken, when he was slammed once more into the wall behind him. The wall gave way under the force of the attack. Randy had only a moment to cry out before he was then thrown face forward onto the floor.

As Gabriel stepped forward, rational thought fled and replaced itself with only a familiar murderous rage.

Gabriel approached the fellow killer now, determined to fully carry out his deadly threat. The inner killer within himself, the one who had lurked in the far corners of his mind for four years, waiting, determined not to be forgotten, greeted the frightened young man before him with a cold, twisted sneer.

Randy was now on his knees, picking himself back up. He was bleeding, hurt and whimpering. Gabriel used his telekinesis to squeeze him around the throat, tightening his grip. Randy was yanked upwards and slammed back into the wall before being dragged up and pinned against it, feet dangling off the floor.

"I am going to enjoy this," Gabriel whispered, his voice a ghost of himself. It was someone else's voice, someone sinister and evil, who delighted in the other man's terrified and panicked expression.

Randy tried to squirm out of the invisible hold, his hands clawing at his throat, desperate for air. His stare was large and horrified as he looked into the other man's deep, impenetrable eyes.

The darkness in them intensified with raw anger.

"You know, I like your little trick, Randy - but I like mine more." Gabriel sneered.

It was then that the door burst open and into the room a frantic Claire stumbled. She stood there for a moment as the scene before her filled her wide eyes with shock.

On the ground, crumbled in a broken heap, was Mohinder - lying still and unmoving.

Her gaze traveled over to find Randy flattened against the wall at least a foot off the ground. He was quaking in fear and bloodied and Gabriel…no not Gabriel, _he_ - was standing there before her, a dark vision in black with his eyes burning and deadly as they turned and locked on her own.

It was a look she had not seen in four years. It sent her straight back into a long, dormant memory of standing terrified and overwhelmed in a locker room in Odessa Texas, as she watched helplessly as her best friend brutally was murdered in front of her.

"Gabriel," she said hesitantly as she stepped forward.

"Go away, Claire," Gabriel seethed as he turned back to Randy, but the grip was loosened some from the distraction and Randy was able to take a deep, welcomed gulp of air.

"Gabriel, please - Mohinder he's hurt…."

"Don't waste your breath," Gabriel told her, "He's dead…"

It was those words that brought another burst of violent anger out of him. He turned his cold, black eyes back towards the squirming and terrified man he held at his mercy.

He slammed Randy against the wall again, hard. Randy screamed out loud at the force of the attack.

Claire watched horrified, unsure of what to do.

"Let him go," she pleaded.

"I said get away from us," Gabriel snarled. He turned to Claire and, using his power once more, tossed her back. She sailed across the room like a mere toy and hit the opposite wall.

She cried out loud as her shoulder was wrenched from the socket.

Claire pulled herself up to her knees, wincing with pain as she popped the bone into place. She gritted her teeth against the uncomfortable sensation of her tendons knitting back together and healing. Claire rose then on shaky legs and took the few steps towards where Mohinder had fallen.

She dropped to her knees beside him and turned him over. Relief flooded over her as she watched his chest rise and fall.

He was still alive, but barely.

She looked once more to see Gabriel had dropped Randy to the ground where he was shaking and crying, begging now as Gabriel used his powers to twist the man's arms in painfully brutal angles, causing him to scream out loud in agony.

The absolute viciousness of the attack had her speechless, almost frozen to her spot on the floor. Yet, Claire knew she could not let this happen - not if she could prevent it.

She climbed back on her feet, bracing herself for another attack as she spoke again.

"Mohinder is still alive!"

"You're lying," Gabriel seethed, but he paused in his assault. He stepped back and looked proudly at the babbling wreck he had reduced Randy too. He had started crying hysterically with fear as Gabriel's dark, lifeless eyes seemed fully capable not only of more torture, but certain and horrific death.

Claire pulled out her weapon and, steadying both hand and heart, stepped behind Gabriel, cocking the hammer.

Though her whole body ached with the thought that she might have to shoot him, her hand and her composure remained steady._This is what you have been trained for Claire Bennett, _she thought_, don't you dare fuck up now… _

"Let him go or I will kill you," Claire swore.

Gabriel turned his head towards her, an amused and terrifying smirk twisted upon his lips.

"Don't make me do this!" Claire said, keeping her voice controlled though inside she was a shaking wreck.

Then his expression started to change. Claire watched in amazement as he resisted the temptation to turn the gun in her hand towards her own head, to force her with his mind to pull the trigger.

Slowly, his vision cleared, focusing and blinking several times. Gabriel slowly came to, as if waking from a dream, to find himself staring at Claire. Gabriel was dumbfounded to find her, his friend - standing there with tears streaming down her face as she pointed her weapon straight at him, determined to kill him if need be.

"Claire," he whispered.

Claire stood dumbfounded as the mirage of the monster that had once haunted her very dreams shimmered and dissolved in front of her, leaving the friend she knew and loved.

"Please Gabriel, don't make me kill you…"

He stepped back from the scene in front of him, grappling with what had happened.

Gabriel could not remember a single thing that occurred since he had entered the apartment and confronted Randy.

The knowledge of what must have transpired caused him to take another step backwards.

Gabriel stumbled, tears springing to his eyes as Randy started begging for his life, pleading with them both.

"I didn't mean to hurt them – any of them, I – couldn't control it, I couldn't stop."

Gabriel looked down to see he still held his weapon. It wavered in his hand as Randy's word's seemed to strike a deep and resounding chord within him. He lowered the gun to his side as he approached the sobbing, young man.

Hysterical and begging now - Randy seemed even younger then he was - like a child, quaking with fear and pleading to be forgiven.

"Please…I am so sorry - I didn't mean to…I never wanted this to happen…"

Gabriel could feel a strange knot of sympathy twisting its way inside him as the anger he had originally felt started to give away.

"I believe you," Gabriel said sincerely.

"I know – I know what it feels like Randy - needing it, power, control - once you got a taste of it – you needed more." Gabriel remarked sadly.

Randy nodded furiously, gulping back more tears.

"I never wanted this."

"I know," Gabriel whispered.

Indeed, he did - somewhere inside him he knew all to well the inner conflict that raged inside the tormented man before him.

"Please, don't kill me," Randy stammered as Gabriel stopped several feet from him.

"I am not going to kill you."

'Then - what - please… who are you?" Randy choked, nearly hysterical, "How - did you…how…"

Randy's eyes went from Gabriel to Claire as he broke down even farther, sobbing into his hands, wailing out his grief.

"Please help me, I didn't mean to hurt them."

Claire came around from Gabriel's side, pulling a syringe from her jacket pocket as she knelt down beside Randy.

Randy edged away from her slowly but she persisted, leaning towards him.

"I know I hurt you, but you have to trust me now," Gabriel insisted as Randy looked up at him.

"If you want us to help you, you have to do what she tells you."

Randy nodded, wiping away tears as he turned towards Claire, who gave him an encouraging smile.

"Take hold of my hand," She urged.

Randy sniffed and looked nervously at Gabriel before turning back to her.

"I am so sorry - I didn't…"

"It's all over now," Claire soothed. Her voice seemed to relax him as he nodded.

"Now, please take my hand - this will be over soon."

"I – don't want to hurt you," Randy continued.

"Sometimes, I - I forget and I …when I get emotional like this…"

"That's alright, you can't hurt me, promise."

Randy hesitated for a moment before taking her hand. Claire squeezed it comfortingly, all while keeping her eyes on his bloody, tear stained face while she rolled up his shirt sleeve.

"Now, don't worry – I am going to give you a shot so we can take you someplace where you'll be safe…no one is going to hurt you anymore."

Randy nodded, closing his eyes as more tears spilled down his wide, freckled face. Claire squeezed his hand again and turned to Gabriel, who nodded.

Claire slid the needle into a vein, hitting the plunger and injecting him with enough sedative to lay him out for a long while. The drugs were designed to work immediately. Randy only had a moment to let out a soft groan before they took effect and he slumped over and onto the floor.

Now that the crisis was over, Gabriel went immediately to Mohinder, falling to his knees beside the stricken man. Mohinder's eyes were closed and his skin felt cold and clammy to the touch.

Gabriel could hear his heart beating though – slow and struggling. Frantic, Gabriel dragged Mohinder's motionless body up and into his arms.

He cradled the dying man, rocking his body against him as he pressed his forehead to Mohinder's own.

Claire was climbing to her feet then. She watched, silent for a moment while Gabriel held Mohinder in his arms. The depth of Gabriel's emotion hit hard and she could feel her own tears welling up once more.

"Oh thank you God, thank you," Gabriel breathed as he pressed his face to the top of Mohinder's head, holding him tightly in his arms.

"Thank you," Gabriel murmured, overwhelmed with gratitude that Mohinder was still alive.

Gabriel looked up at Claire watching the two of him.

"He's still with us - barely - hurry, get them here as quick as you can."

Claire was already nodding, cell phone in hand as she dashed into the other room, hitting speed dial.

It was then that Mohinder's eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. He gasped loudly as his breathing started to steady itself. If it had been close anything more than the tiniest tip of Randy's finger and Mohinder would have died.

"Gabriel…"

Gabriel pulled back, being careful to allow Mohinder space.

"Yeah, it's me – don't talk…"

His body weakening as he started to drift off again.

"I was too late," he managed to whisper before his eyes started rolling back in his head once more.

Instantly the panic overtook Gabriel.

"No - please… stay with me! Mohinder…don't you…"

Gabriel was all but shouting now as he leaned over him, shaking him.

"Please…don't…"

Gabriel choked back his sobs as he pressed his lips to the shell of Mohinder's ear right as Mohinder lost consciousness again.

"Don't you dare give up on me," Gabriel whispered desperately, his hot tears burning against Mohinder's neck.

An overwhelming sense of helplessness consumed Gabriel. One that forced from him a desperate confession, one that found it's way out and past his lips before he could stop himself.

"Please, I love you…" 

Gabriel stood off to the side watching, heart sick as Mohinder was wheeled out of the apartment by a virtual army of company medics.

Claire, standing beside him, followed his gaze as Peter stepped into the room.

He paused at the door as Mohinder was wheeled past him.

Together they watched as Peter started after them but was stopped by one of the medics. He was pushed aside rather brusquely as they hurried Mohinder out of the apartment.

Gabriel turned away from the commotion and out towards the open window. It was dark out there and the dusky, night sky smelled of rain.

Gabriel sighed loudly as Claire moved closer to him.

"Nice work," Claire said softly.

Claire watched as Gabriel visibly stiffened at those words.

There were tears glistening in the corners of his eyes as he looked over at her.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"No," he answered, his voice a bitter whisper.

Gabriel moved closer to the window, staring out onto the noisy, traffic-clogged city streets below them.

His gaze was faraway as if he were lost in memory, a memory that was more dream than reality.

Claire watched his brow furrow, as if he were trying to put together pieces inside himself that didn't quite fit where they should.

They were silent for a moment before he spoke again.

"It happened, didn't it?"

Claire held her breath, dreading this conversation, but knowing it was inevitable.

"He came back, didn't he?" "He tried to hurt you."

"He can't hurt me - 'sides no one needs to know, it was a lapse, a small one."

"I could have killed you," Gabriel replied, his voice tinged with pain as he continued to stare out onto the rain soaked city, his expression sorrowful.

"Don't flatter yourself," Claire told him, mildly.

Though inside Claire was deeply conflicted, and if she was to be honest with herself, completely horrified with what she had just witnessed.

It was the last thing she had wanted to happen. Claire prayed that it was a one time fluke.

One brought on only in a moment of panic and one not likely to ever occur again.

Yet, deep in her heart she knew that wasn't the case. The signs had been there before but she hadn't expected it to come to this, to Gabriel turning on her.

Claire went to speak once more, hoping to sooth Gabriel's troubled thoughts, when they were interrupted.

"Gabriel."

Gabriel turned around as Peter stepped towards them both.

Gabriel braced himself for what he was sure to be another fight, one he was by no means in the mood to deal with.

Yet, he was completely taken aback when Peter only held out his hand to him.

Gabriel paused for a moment before taking Peter's outstretched hand, shaking it.

"You saved Mohinder's life, thank you," Peter said sincerely.

"You don't have to thank me," Gabriel answered softly as each man eyed the other wearily.

"I feel like I do," Peter responded, "If I hadn't - if I had listened to you. "

"Let's just say, I owe you one."

Gabriel nodded as Peter stepped back, an awkward silence followed.

"Well, I better see if I can be of any help, I'll catch up with you two later," Peter added, as he moved away.

They watched him in silence as he joined a group of fellow agents milling around by the front door of the bedroom.

Gabriel turned back towards Claire, completely dumbfounded.

"Did Peter just - did he thank me?"

Claire nodded a small smile on her lips as she turned to look to her uncle.

"Yes, yes he did." Claire answered. She was pleased to see that for the moment, the dark expression in his eyes was gone. 

Mohinder opened his eyes slowly, his vision straining and blurred. He blinked against a blinding, white starkness. It seemed to encompass the entire room in which he laid in. Mohinder tried to sit up but his head felt impossibly heavy. Groaning from the strain, he fell back against the bed.

"Don't try and move," a voice from beside him urged. Mohinder managed to move his gaze over to his bedside.

Bennett stood there, a concerned smile on his lips.

"I'm not dead am I?" Mohinder managed to ask, the words felt scratchy in his throat. Bennett's grin deepened.

"No, that you are not – but you are lucky to be alive."

Mohinder sighed as he tried sitting up once more only to be stopped by Bennett pushing him back down with a steadying hand.

"No, need to push it, you'll be up and running in no time."

Mohinder nodded, and did as he requested, turning his eyes in Bennett's direction.

"We didn't save the girl," he whispered solemnly, "She was already dead when I got there."

Bennett simply nodded, "Thanks to you and the rest of your team we got the killer – you helped to save a lot of lives, Mohinder."

"My team," Mohinder mumbled weakly, "Are they…?"

"Everyone is just fine," Bennett said, "Gabriel is actually outside in the hall – waiting, he hasn't left the clinic in two days."

Mohinder felt his heart tighten at those words.

"Do you feel up to speaking with him?"

Mohinder nodded as Bennett rubbed Mohinder' shoulder good-naturedly.

"Okay, I'll send him in, but try and get some rest, alright?"

Mohinder nodded and thanked him. Bennett left the room then.

While he was gone Mohinder tried to remember just what happened to him but the details were impossibly sketchy and hard to follow.

The one thing of which he was certain was the fact that he owed Gabriel his life.

The door was pushed open and Gabriel's tall frame ducked into the room. He looked exhausted, eyes red-rimmed and a few days worth of stubble dotted his worn out face.

A face that broke out into a shy grin when he saw Mohinder was awake.

"Hey," Gabriel started as he walked hesitatingly towards the bed, "How are you feeling?" "Tired," Mohinder answered softly, "How are you holding up?"

Gabriel seemed surprised that Mohinder would ask. Approaching the side of the bed, he reached in back of him for a chair and sat down.

"I'm okay," Gabriel said, "I was just scared you weren't going to make it."

Gabriel leaned down, averting his eyes. He busied himself playing with the edge of the blanket, needing something to do.

Mohinder smiled at his nervousness. Mohinder reached across the bed and slid his hand over Gabriel's own, stopping his nervous gestures. Gabriel looked up in surprise.

"You needn't worry about me. I am stronger than I look."

Gabriel smiled, "I know," he said, squeezing Mohinder's hand warmly.

He was surprised when Mohinder didn't remove his hand from his own.

"How's Peter?" Mohinder asked. Gabriel bit his lip, looking away as the sound of Peter's name made him stiffen involuntarily.

"He's just fine…he's in New York still but he said something to Claire about selling his place and transferring down here."

Mohinder groaned out loud at that, throwing his head back in frustration.

"That isn't good news?" Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, its not," Mohinder replied as he caught Gabriel's watchful eye.

Gabriel released Mohinder's hand and pushed back in his seat.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No, please stay," Mohinder insisted as he patted the bed for emphasis.

Gabriel nodded and sat back down, this time pushing his seat closer to Mohinder.

"Then I will stay as long as you need me to," Gabriel said, as he reached back for Mohinder's hand.

Mohinder looked into those dark eyes of his, seeing an earnest sweetness he hadn't quite noticed before. Mohinder paused for only a moment before lacing his fingers through Gabriel's own. 

Claire sat out in the hallway. Her back hurt from several hours sitting in an impossibly hard plastic chair, the kind that seemed to be the staple of every hospital waiting room, even if their hospital waiting room was housed in a top secret location somewhere in the California desert.

Gabriel was pacing the long corridor in front of her as if he meant to wear a groove into the floor when the door to Mohinder's room finally opened.

Her father stepped out and turned to Gabriel, who looked towards him expectantly.

"He's awake, you can go in."

Gabriel nodded and hastily went into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Claire watched as he left.

She stiffened as her father sat down in the seat beside her. It was the first time they had been alone together since the incident with Randy.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as Claire braced herself for conversation she had been dreading.

Trying to prolong the inevitable, Claire busied herself tearing the empty Styrofoam cup in her lap into strips, keeping her head down.

She could feel her father's watchful eyes noting every nervous gesture she made.

"Claire, we need to talk," her father started.

Claire shifted in her seat but kept her eyes trained on her lap, terrified of what he would say.

It amazed her - that even as a grown woman she found herself a frightened little girl in her father's presence.

"Claire, look at me," he insisted.

Claire lifted her head.

"Ok, talk," she whispered through gritted teeth, trying to retain her composure.

"I want you to tell me what you know about Randy's injuries…"

Claire sighed, fumbling for words she was sure she had down only a moment before but now seemed lost to her.

"He resisted, Gabriel had to subdue him," Claire said softly, her eyes shifting slightly.

She hated lying to her father and she had one too many times in her life for her to feel comfortable with the idea of having to do it again.

Bennett sighed heavily, leaned forward.

"Gabriel fractured his skull - broke his left forearm and left lacerations on his neck two inches wide."

Claire turned to him.

"What are you saying?" She demanded, her tone coming out a lot harsher than she had meant it to.

"You know what I am saying, Claire," Bennett insisted, taking in his daughter's pained expression.

"Now, tell me the truth."

"There is nothing to tell you!" Claire fired back.

Bennett sighed loudly, obviously discouraged with the direction in which their conversation was heading.

Bennett lowered his voice, changing tactics.

"Claire, you have a very specific job to do - now I want to believe you can do it, can I trust you?"

"You can trust me," she whispered sadly.

"Claire…"

"No, Dad - alright, I know what I have to do and if I have to - I will do it, okay?"

Bennett nodded, "I know you care for him but this - this is for his own safety as well, you understand that, don't you?"

Claire could feel the sobs that had wedged themselves in her throat start to loosen.

She could feel herself start to break down but she was determined not to do it in front of her father.

She busied herself collecting the pieces of Styrofoam off her lap.

"Yes, I can handle it."

She stood, turning to her father.

"I need more coffee, would you like one?"

"No, thank you," he said. He watched her turn and make her way down the hallway.

Bennett watched as she rounded the corner out of sight. He dug into his jacket pocket for his cell phone, pausing for only a moment before flicking it open and hitting a number on speed dial.

There was a moment before Matt picked up.

"Yeah, boss."

"I am going to need you to keep an eye on a certain situation." A breath.

"It seems I may have been wrong about Claire."

There was a heavy pause on the other end of the phone.

"Is this about what I think it is?"

"Yeah, she's become emotionally invested."

"Do you want someone to - take care of it, instead?" Matt offered.

Bennett lifted his weary gaze towards the door, where Gabriel had disappeared through. He took a moment to think Matt's offer through.

"No, not yet - I need to be sure first…we spent four years training him, after all."

"Yeah, well he messed up this Randy kid, pretty good - guy's a wreck."

Bennett nodded, eyes trained on the wooden door in front of him. He hadn't wanted it to come to this, had prayed he wouldn't have to make that call.

"I know, keep me posted."

"Sure thing boss, you let me know if anything changes on your end."

"Will do," Bennett said, thoughtfully as he clicked off, "will do."


	12. Unraveling

Chapter 12

Unraveling

Summary: Gabriel and Mohinder share a moment that threatens to destroy their new friendship, while Bennett and Parkman consider their options.

AN: I was going to wait to post but it's been weeks so here it is. I hope you enjoy!

As always a HUGE thank you to my awesome beta Motsureru.

Note: I have decided to post a link on my profile to my live journal account and the six companion pieces to this series. These six separate one shots are the back story to 'Road.' I think they go a long way in explaining some of the issues that people seem to have with this story especially regarding Peter and how he seems out of character. I would have posted them here but two of these stories are Rated NC 17 and not allowed on this archive.

I hope they help shed some light as to some of my intentions with 'Road.' and any questions you might have had while reading. Anyway, just want to say I love you guys and appreciate each and every review! Thanks so much for sticking this through. HUGS

&&&

"And how have you been, Gabriel?"

Gabriel twisted around in his seat to greet Bennett as he stepped inside his office and closed the door after himself.

"I am okay," Gabriel answered, shifting his long legs in order to get comfortable. Bennett clapped him on the shoulder as he passed him. He went around the side of his desk and sat down across from Gabriel.

"Look – I am not going to dance around the reason I brought you in here, understand?"

Gabriel could feel the tension building in the room. He struggled to remain calm, simply nodding while his body fought the urge to fidget and turn away. Bennett glanced down at his hands for a moment before looking back up, sighing deeply.

Gabriel tried to meet and hold Bennett's gaze.

"First, you know why you are here, right?"

"Yeah," Gabriel answered carefully.

"So, you are aware of how serious the 'Randy' situation is?"

Another soft 'Yeah' from Gabriel, who couldn't fight the urge any longer; he shifted once more in his seat and looked away under the intense scrutiny of Bennett's careful stare.

"So therefore, it's safe to assume that you do realize that you weren't trained to torture suspects; I know you know this – so tell me what the hell happened then?"

"I don't know," Gabriel admitted.

"You don't know?" Bennett countered, a slight edge to his tone as he leaned farther across the desk.

"I don't. All I remember going into the apartment and then – then…" Gabriel floundered there as he tried to make sense of the hazy images floating around his brain.

"Then what?" Bennett persisted, "I need you to talk to me Gabriel."

"I would tell you if I knew but I don't remember hurting him, none of that…"

The pained, nearly frightened expression on Bennett's face was not lost on Gabriel. He could tell that his actions that night had disappointed the other man greatly. Bennett went to speak but stopped himself, thinking a moment before continuing.

"Is this because of your mother, Gabriel?" Bennett asked.

Gabriel felt his chest tighten and a slow but sure blush spread across his face as he looked away.

"I don't think so – I don't know," Gabriel replied.

"You know we can't tolerate this sort of behavior ever again, understand?"

Gabriel nodded.

"Alright, as long as we are on the same page," Bennett said, calmer now.

"You can leave," he added, waving Gabriel off. Gabriel rose on shaky legs and, swallowing hard, made his way towards the door. He stopped when Bennett called after him.

"Claire asked that you go see her down in the observation wing – Oh and Gabriel?" Gabriel looked back at his mentor, caught both the strength of his steady jaw and the faint glimpse of genuine fear in his eyes.

The combination of both sent a cold stab of panic through Gabriel, who could not trust his voice not to betray the unease that filled him.

"Please take care of your self; if you have any problems – with Suresh, the rest of the staff – come see me straight away, alright?"

&&&

After leaving Bennett's office, Gabriel made the long trek from the central offices down to the opposite side of the main building. The trip involved taking a complicated route of winding passages and narrow corridors until he reached the section of the company in which current detainees were housed. Gabriel placed his right hand against the flat surface of a panel located to the side of him. He waited as it scanned his prints and beeped, the noise indicating that access had been cleared. The large metal doors in front of him swooshed open noiselessly as he stepped into a large circular room from which several hallways branched off. The doors closed behind him. Gabriel was greeted by the tall, attractive blonde in front of him. Her name was Niki, and she was in charge of security for this area of the company.

"I haven't seen you in awhile. How are you, Gabriel?" she asked casually as she got up from her seat behind her desk and made her way over towards him to shake hands.

"I'm alright, yourself?"

"You know, same old, same old - been kind of locked down here for more days then I can remember, but I'll live. So I take it you're looking for Claire?"

Gabriel nodded, "Yeah, she asked for me - she still around?"

"Yeah, she's just down the hall - at the observation deck. I'll give her a buzz and let her know you're here."

"Great, thanks Nik..."

Niki nodded as he moved past her.

"Oh and Gabriel," she called after him.

He turned back, "Yes?"

"Nice work, saving Suresh and all – he's a good guy and we need him around here." Gabriel nodded. "Yeah, we do," he said sincerely as he headed down the corridor.

As he rounded the maze-like series of long hallways, he finally made it to the observation deck, finding himself in a room outfitted with several large screens. They were placed in such a way as to give the observer wide views of the various cells which were located on the floor directly below them. Claire was sitting on a swivel chair, drinking coffee and watching Randy through the monitor directly in front of her when Gabriel entered the room.

She turned as Gabriel approached.

"How's he doing?"

Gabriel asked as he came up beside her and leaned over her shoulder to study the grainy image in front of him. Randy sat in a stark, white holding room. A chair and a long table were the only furniture. He was cuffed and shackled – not too mention doped up on curare to keep his deadly little power in check should he get even the slightest bit emotional.

"He's doing alright given the circumstances," Claire answered as she sipped her coffee.

"So, did we get anything out of him, a motive – a reason?"

Claire sat her coffee down and twirled around in her seat to face Gabriel.

"He's not really speaking - he's still more or less in shock still."

"So, no one has gotten anything out of him, not even Parkman?"

"Like, I said – guy's been quiet."

Gabriel leaned back, thoughtful as Claire turned to him, watching his expression.

"Gabriel, it's probably a good thing," she said carefully.

"How so?"

"Because - because of what happened…"

Gabriel paled then as he looked to the shaken and beaten down form of man in front of him. He winced and looked away.

There was a long moment of heavy silence between them before Gabriel cleared his throat and spoke.

"So, what's the verdict, are we gassing him?"

Claire swallowed hard.

"It's too soon to tell but… more than likely, yeah."

Gabriel's eyes darkened and his hands clenched into tight fists of frustration.

Claire watched him for a moment before she spoke.

"It's the way things are done," she said simply.

"The way things are done?'" he snorted, tossing his hands up, "Well what about forgiveness? I promised this guy we would help him."

Claire had dreaded this conversation, and though she had tried to prepare herself for it, now she realized it would be harder than she initially thought.

"So tell me, Claire, why doesn't he get another chance?"

Claire shrugged, "He's not agent material…he's too…too sensitive, too…"

"So, why did they choose me then, Claire – why in the hell did I get another chance?"

Claire looked down, chewing on her lip as she looked to the image of a hunched over Randy, sitting in a barren holding cell. His shoulders shaking, his eyes staring off into space, glistening with tears.

"For God sakes, Claire, really look at him, what is he at most – twenty, twenty-one?" "He's twenty-two, a year older then me," she answered, shifting as she tried to hide her discomfort.

"He deserves a chance."

Gabriel whispered more to himself than to her.

"Tell me the truth, Claire has he done even a fraction of the terrible things I have – how many more people did I kill?"

"It isn't about a body count Gabriel," Claire whispered, feeling sick to her stomach, "But like everything else around here, it boils down to the greater good - keeping him alive serves no purpose."

Gabriel turned away from her and started pacing as the fury over the situation slowly ate at him.

Claire did her best now to try and reason with him.

"Gabriel…these things happen sometimes and there isn't much we can do about it."

Gabriel whirled back around.

"I don't believe that, I don't believe we need to work for people who would rather kill a man than try and understand…"

"Gabriel, you are taking this personal and it isn't," Claire interrupted as she rose from her seat.

Gabriel started towards her, anger burning his eyes, but he paused his advance as Claire backed away from him almost instinctively.

The sight of her cowering away from him even for a split second stopped him dead in his tracks.

He put his hand over his mouth and just stood there looking into her wide, frightened eyes.

"Oh god," Gabriel breathed, "You're afraid of me now - aren't you?"

Claire collected herself and went to him as he removed his hand from across his mouth and ran it through his hair nervously.

"I am not afraid of _you_, Gabriel - _you_ are the reason why I am going to sign the execution order."

"I don't understand," Gabriel said, searching her puzzled expression.

"You don't need to."

"But I am doing this for you." Claire answered quickly as she moved away hesitantly. Gabriel knew she was hiding something from him.

Gabriel reached for her arm and pulled her back; one glance into her nervous eyes and he suddenly understood.

"Goddamn it, Claire - you already did it, didn't you?"

"Yes," Claire said as she averted her gaze from his.

Chewing on her lower lip, she kept her voice soft.

"It's done, I can't change my opinion unless I want to bring attention to myself."

"You are doing this to protect me!"

"Of course, I am - you're my friend Gabriel - that man," she pointed towards the monitor.

"That man isn't, understand? It wasn't a hard decision to make!"

Gabriel released her arm and started towards the door. Claire went after him, but he turned around then and stopped her by the shoulders.

"Don't care about me, Claire - I am not any worthier then he is…I should have died too."

Claire went to say something but the absolute conviction with which Gabriel spoke those words left her dumbstruck. Instead she only nodded as he released his grip on her and started away.

Claire could do nothing but watch him leave.

Bennett was in his office, going through a virtual mountain of paperwork and drinking lukewarm coffee in a vain attempt to keep focus when Matt appeared at the door, knocking and sticking his head in.

"You wanted to see me?"

Bennett looked up and nodded, waving him in.

"Yeah, like three hours ago, where the hell have you been?"

"Working for a living," Matt countered as he stepped farther inside the room.

"Well now that you managed to grace me with your presence, take a seat - stay awhile."

Matt only chuckled in response as he sat down across from him.

"Alright, what is it?"

"We need to discuss the 'situation' that I mentioned earlier, I need you to give me your opinion on the matter."

Matt seemed surprised as he leaned back in his seat.

"You need my opinion, shit - now I seriously never thought I'd live long…"

Bennett was in no mood for this playful banter of theirs - there was too much at stake.

"Are you going to make jokes, Parkman?"

"Good god, Bennett - are you - are you actually sweating this thing?"

"Only because I can't shake the feeling that what happened back in New York was partially my own fault."

"Your fault?" Matt snickered, "Oh, so you're the one that decided to torture our suspect and leave him so much of a wreck that he hasn't said or done a coherent thing since?"

"You want to let me finish?" Bennett retorted with that look in his eyes that made Matt shut up and shut up quick.

"Yeah, go ahead," Matt said, waving him on as he shifted in his seat.

Out of common courtesy, Matt stayed out of his head, but it was quite clear regardless that Bennett was really struggling with his decision.

"We put too much pressure on him - for god sakes, the man has been stuck here in this shit hole for four years - then we send him out with Mohinder of all people - and to New York, it was too much, too soon…"

Matt held up a hand.

Bennett paused in the middle of his diatribe, eyebrow raised in annoyance.

"Why in the hell do you have your hand up?" Bennett barked.

"I just want to know if I can talk now," Matt responded.

Bennett gave him a disgusted look and sighed loudly in reply.

"Yeah, yeah, talk but for god's sake put your hand down, Parkman."

Matt let it fall to his lap.

"Ok. Here is my thought…"

Bennett put his head in his hands and leaned onto his desk.

"Did I really decide to subject myself to your opinion?"

Matt chuckled at first, but then he grew quite serious.

"Listen Bennett, you know what I honestly think?"

Bennett nodded and waited for Matt to continue.

"Kill him," Matt finished, "One right in the back of the head, end of story – does that man deserve any better than that?"

Bennett had figured that Matt would respond this way, and despite some hostility on Matt's end, he knew Matt wasn't the type of man who made snap decisions, especially when it came to things like this. Though Bennett had engaged in a lot good natured ribbing at Matt's expense over the years he had spent working closely with him, the truth was he had a lot respect for the man and valued his opinion a great deal.

Bennett sighed deeply and nodded before he looked up at Matt.

"Wow, Bennett – don't tell me you actually agree with me for once?" Matt asked, pretending to be shocked.

"I do agree with you, but – no we give him another chance, just one. We'll make things at least a little normal for the guy, get him situated. But one more chance is all he's going to get. I still need you to find me someone..."

"Someone?"

"Someone to do the job if Claire can't…I need you find such a person for me and keep them close, understand?"

Matt nodded, "Alright boss, it's your call…but let's hope the next time he decides to go serial killer crazy on someone it isn't one of us…"

"Yeah," Bennett said, sipping the long cold coffee with a grimace, "We will just have to hope it doesn't come to that."

&&&

Gabriel knocked on the door of Mohinder's hospital room timidly and waited until he heard Mohinder's "Come in," before stepping inside and shutting the it behind him. Mohinder was sitting on the edge of the bed. Dressed in his usual khakis and white button-down shirt, he looked tired, but otherwise in good shape.

He looked up and offered Gabriel one of those blinding white smiles of his, the kind that never failed to knock Gabriel off balance and turn him into a babbling, stuttering wreck.

"Y-You ready to leave?" Gabriel asked as he gestured to Mohinder's bag by the edge of the door.

"Definitely," Mohinder answered as he pushed off the bed. He reached for a coat he had thrown over a chair and headed towards the door, moving to grab his bag.

Gabriel stopped him, stepping over and snatching it first.

"I can carry my own bag," Mohinder protested, but Gabriel only held it out of reach in response and shook his head.

"I am sure you can," he said, "But you won't."

"And people think I'm stubborn," Mohinder said thoughtfully as he threw up his hands. "Fine, if you must. Carry it."

"I will," Gabriel said. As he went to hold open the door he realized that Mohinder wasn't behind him.

Gabriel turned back and found Mohinder still in the center of the room, a strange look on his face.

"Are you alright?" Gabriel asked. Mohinder shook his head as if he meant to clear it of something. Blinking several times, Mohinder nodded.

"Yeah, it's just…" Gabriel let the door close and sat the suitcase down before coming over towards Mohinder.

"What is it? What's the matter?"

"It's just …this, you - it's hard for me to get used to."

Mohinder shook his head, noticing the troubled expression on Gabriel's face.

"You know what, it doesn't matter, let's go."

"No, tell me Mohinder?"

Mohinder pressed his lips and shook his head. He stepped past Gabriel and clamped him on the back as he moved forward towards the door.

"You know what never mind," he said, "I need to get out of here. Besides, I have something to show you." Gabriel watched him for a moment, pondering what he had meant by such a statement. Gabriel wondered if there would ever be a day were he would finally know just who he and Mohinder had truly been to one another and what it all meant for them now.

&&&

"I'd really like to know why you're driving me somewhere blindfolded," Gabriel whined from the passenger seat. Mohinder, sitting beside him in the driver's seat, just laughed at the note of irritation creeping into Gabriel's voice. They were on their way to some secret destination that Mohinder absolutely refused to let Gabriel in on.

Gabriel sat, therefore, helpless and blindfold in place as he let Mohinder drive. But after ten minutes of constant darkness, he started to get agitated.

"Am I going to wind up in a shallow grave somewhere?" Gabriel asked, only half joking.

"No," Mohinder laughed out loud.

"Just trust me, it's a surprise – don't you like surprises?"

There was a pause.

"I don't know," Gabriel answered, and indeed he didn't; there was no surprise party or last minute dinner date with an old friend in his past.

Absolutely nothing he could recall that would indicate that, like most people, he enjoyed being surprised by something unexpected.

"Well, I am sure you will like this one. Now how about a little patience?"

"Sure, but does this blind have to be so damn scratchy?"

"Relax, almost there," Mohinder reassured, laying a warm hand on Gabriel's jean-clad knee. It instantly quieted him.

Gabriel coughed a bit and shifted, suddenly very warmed by that.

Mohinder removed his hand and placed it back on the wheel.

"Don't worry, you'll like this surprise, I promise you."

Gabriel nodded, "I hope so."

After another five minutes, Gabriel felt the car turn and suddenly there was no light behind his blinds sneaking through his blindfold, only darkness.

Gabriel got the distinct impression that they were pulling into a parking garage somewhere.

"Can I take it off now," Gabriel whined.

Mohinder shut the car off.

"You are going to feel like a huge baby in a few minutes," Mohinder said with a grin that Gabriel could feel rather than see.

There was the sound of a ding as Mohinder opened the driver's side door and slid out. "I'll help you," Mohinder told him as he slammed his door, going around to the passenger's side.

He reached for Gabriel's warm hand and helped him out of the car.

"Watch your head," Mohinder warned. Mohinder kept a tight grip on Gabriel's bicep as he led him carefully onto an elevator.

"I am really starting to worry here – not too mention itch something fierce, Mohinder." "We're here," Mohinder assured as the doors slid open and he led Gabriel down a long hallway.

The place smelled faintly of cleaning supplies and something distinctly flowery, lilacs, maybe.

There was the sound of a door unlocking and being pushed open as Mohinder led Gabriel into a room, closing the door behind them.

"Okay, you can open your eyes," Mohinder said.

Gabriel wasted no time pulling the blind from his face, only to find himself staring in amazement at the apartment before him.

The living room was small but comfortable enough. It led off to a tiny kitchen. He could see that the main room connected to a short hallway. There was even a small balcony off the living room.

The place was comfortably furnished, nothing fancy, but there was a nice beige sofa and love seat, even a kitchen table and chairs.

Gabriel turned back to Mohinder.

"What the hell is this?"

There was a smile teasing the corner of Mohinder's lips as he stepped forward and handed Gabriel the keys in his hand.

"This is your apartment Gabriel, you live here."

"I live here?"

"You do," Mohinder said with a smile, "Oh and by the way there is another set of keys on that ring, they belong to your car."

"Is this a joke?" Gabriel asked, in shock.

"No, Bennett decided it was time you had your own place for when you come back from assignments. In fact - Claire is right down the hall from you and I live downstairs."

"This -this is overwhelming," Gabriel said sincerely as he walked around the place, gaping in open wonder.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I really do - I mean the colors, all of it…it's perfect."

"Good," Mohinder said as he joined Gabriel in the middle of the living room.

"I don't know what to say."

Gabriel was speechless as he turned back to Mohinder, who was smiling kindly in response.

"That you are happy for starters," Mohinder said as he moved into the kitchen and started fiddling around in the cabinets. He found a can of coffee in a cupboard above the stove and set about making them coffee.

Gabriel followed him into the kitchen. Mohinder smiled as Gabriel ran his hands over the countertops, touched the knobs on the stove, completely fascinated that, at long last, he had a home.

Yet, the thought, the very word 'home' made him terribly sad and lonely. Glancing at the spaciousness of the living room, he was once more fully aware of just how lonely he was – like this apartment, his life was virtually empty.

All he had was his work. He would do his job and come home to an empty apartment and worst of all an empty bed, with the only person he wanted to fill it a floor below him. That person now standing beside him, scooping out coffee with a measuring spoon and prattling along, not noticing the stricken look on Gabriel's face.

"Claire insisted that there at least be coffee – said you can't function with…"

Mohinder's voice trailed off to silence as he finally noticed the pained look in Gabriel's eyes.

"What is it?"

Gabriel shook his head, snapping back at the sound of Mohinder's voice. He shifted and coughed, turning away from the man beside him.

"Uh, nothing – I'm fine. So think there's some creamer around here?"

Gabriel remarked as he went to the fridge. Finding some milk, he reached for it and turned back around with it hand. Mohinder was standing directly in front of them, reaching for the carton which made Gabriel take a step back closer to the fridge.

"What is it Gabriel? What's the matter?" Mohinder asked softly as he took the carton of milk from Gabriel's hand and set it down on the counter beside them.

"Nothing is the matter, I'm fine," Gabriel answered quickly.

He stepped past Mohinder and busied himself looking around the cupboards for coffee mugs.

Mohinder watched as he found two and placed them on the counter. Mohinder could tell by the sag in his shoulders and the weariness in his voice that something was off, but he didn't want to press Gabriel, as it was quite clear that whatever was on his mind was something he didn't exactly want to talk about.

"You are happy though, right?" Mohinder asked carefully. Gabriel nodded as he hunted around for spoons.

"I mean you couldn't have possibly liked living at the company – being watched and studied, prodded…"

Gabriel looked up as he sat the silverware on the counter with a slight clang.

"You know, to be perfectly honest, I never minded it."

When Mohinder didn't speak, Gabriel continued.

"The days… days were fine, they kept me busy – almost too much so sometimes, but I didn't mind it – the busier the better. But the nights, the nights never ended. I wasn't sleeping well – too many dreams, fragments of things. I'd wake up in the middle, in tears and screaming, soaked in sweat and always, always with a name lodged in my throat. It would be on the tip of my tongue but I just couldn't….I would lay there and try to remember it…"

Mohinder simply watched him with bated breath, unconsciously beginning to dig his fingernails into his palm. He waited and watched as Gabriel chewed his lip and looked away hesitantly.

"It was your name Mohinder…I know that now."

Mohinder didn't say anything, simply exhaled the breath he had been holding and did his best to remain impassive despite the fact that Gabriel's words had hit him like a sharp punch.

There were no words of his own, none he could find to even begin to express the virtual catalog of emotion that surged through him. Instead, he went to the coffee maker and busied himself pouring them each a cup.

Gabriel had wanted to snatch back those words the minute that he said them. Mohinder had retreated back into himself; that earlier mask of cold calm he had worn effortlessly when they had first met was now back in place.

Suddenly, whatever warm and friendly steps they had taken had evaporated, seemingly lost.

Gabriel could have kicked himself for his stupidity.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said after a moment when Mohinder still hadn't spoken. Mohinder knew that there would be no overlooking what Gabriel had just confessed, or the emotional significance it had to both of them.

So instead Mohinder looked over at him and nodded quickly as if to accept his apology before he turned away again, the expression on his face unreadable.

"I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable…"

Mohinder glanced towards him once more, this time to hand a mug out to Gabriel. He took it, not realizing that his hands were shaking from nerves.

"It's fine," Mohinder assured him, as he hoped it would be the end of the conversation.

Gabriel held his breath while Mohinder paused to add some creamer to his coffee, wondering if perhaps he just might open up to Gabriel and finally tell him about the past they shared.

He was curious as to what exactly the extent of their relationship had been; the very thought was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

Gabriel put his cup down on the counter and when he looked up, his eyes met Mohinder's.

Something inside him snapped then, and before he knew what he was doing, he was backing Mohinder against the counter.

They were mere inches from one another. Mohinder put his hands up as if to ward off the advance, but instead found his hands reaching out almost as if on their on accord to grip Gabriel by his biceps. They stood still, eyes locked and their breathing heavy and hitched. The moment stretched out for an impossibly long time as Gabriel leaned into Mohinder. Mohinder stepped back, firmly pinned against the counter and Gabriel's long, lean length. The edge of the counter dug into his back sharply, causing him to gasp out loud. It was then that he felt Gabriel's lips upon his own.

It was nothing more then a soft brush, so softly that he could barely feel them, only taste Gabriel's warm, moist breath over his mouth.

Mohinder felt his breath catch in his throat as the desire and apprehension twisted itself into a strange and terrifying knot within him.

He found himself unable to move; he could only feel Gabriel's lips ghosting over his own, seeking his permission to further the kiss. Mohinder dug his nails deeper into Gabriel's arm, causing Gabriel to hiss out loud.

Gabriel deepened the kiss, his lips all but begging for Mohinder to return the gesture.

For a second Mohinder lost all reason- only opened his mouth in response, gasping out loud as Gabriel's tongue found his and the kiss grew hot and desperate.

As they paused to catch their breath, Gabriel leaned back slightly, resting his forehead against Mohinder's own.

"Now I understand why I could never forget you," Gabriel whispered into the pause the moment left.

The words were like ice water being doused over Mohinder.

He shook his head as if coming to, realizing where he was and who he was with.

Mohinder knew this couldn't happen, he had promised himself never again. Never again to succumb to the man before him and this strange power he had over both his mind and heart.

Mohinder pushed Gabriel back and away from him. The gesture caught Gabriel off guard, and he stumbled back a bit, looking to Mohinder with those sad, sweet eyes of his.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel apologized weakly.

Mohinder wanted to yell, he wanted to scream, fling both words and fists into that face in front of him. That face- it brought back every want, every need, every twisted long held-in desire. It brought back far too much pain.

Mohinder could feel himself start to come apart from the years spent fighting against something he could scarcely control.

"Just don't, don't…"

Mohinder couldn't find the words he needed, lost somewhere in the space between them, trapped.

How could he make Gabriel understand what he could barely comprehend himself?

"I'm sorry, Mohinder - I am sorry, I didn't…"

Mohinder turned and hurried away from him. He had to get away- anywhere as long as it was away from Gabriel.

"Please, Mohinder - just please, wait a minute," Gabriel pleaded. He grabbed Mohinder as he headed towards the door, spinning him around to make him look at him.

"You feel it don't you? Please tell me you feel it too?"

"It doesn't matter what I feel," Mohinder told him, pulling his arm free.

"Don't you understand Gabriel, don't you understand that you've done things- things you can't undo no matter how much - how much you… you change."

Gabriel just stared at him.

"I want to know, tell me everything! Everything I did."

"I can't tell you Gabriel," Mohinder said as he stepped past.

Gabriel went after him, blocking the door.

"No, I want to know," Gabriel insisted as their eyes met and held. Mohinder looked away again.

"Please, you don't."

"No, I do…"

Mohinder looked him dead in the eyes. The hurt there, the rawness of them nearly took Gabriel's breath away.

"No, you don't," he insisted.

Gabriel went to reach for him, but Mohinder stopped him.

"Please, when I tell you don't want to know, believe me."

"I know I hurt you, but I won't ever again…"

"Please, don't," Mohinder protested as he moved towards the door.

"No, listen to me, Mohinder, please…goddamn it! Mohinder, don't you understand I am in love with you?"

Mohinder felt his whole body contract with the intensity of those words, and he turned around to face Gabriel. Gabriel stood there, almost as if he too were shocked by the words he had just uttered.

Mohinder fought hard to keep his composure.

"How can you be? You've only just met me?" Mohinder whispered as tears filled his eyes.

Gabriel stepped closer to him, searching his eyes for something, perhaps understanding.

"Because, I just do - it's -it's like, I always have," Gabriel whispered.

"Nothing has made any sense in these years, except you. You are the only thing I know with certainty, that no matter what I did, what I do now, I love you."

"Just stop it, please - I can't," Mohinder protested.

"Just listen to me!"

"No - you listen to me!" Mohinder shouted as he shoved Gabriel's arm out of his way.

"You have no idea the man you were- the things you did, you broke my heart once already. I am not letting you do it again!"

"Mohinder..."

Mohinder held up a hand and pushed Gabriel back from him.

"It's too late, what's done is done and we both need to accept that."

Mohinder then opened the door, turning back to look at Gabriel's miserable form. He stood there in the front hall of his new, empty apartment, his eyes begging Mohinder to stay.

Mohinder gritted his teeth. "Please - I'm sorry."

Gabriel nodded, so many things he desperately wanted to say dying on his lips. He couldn't find the words to keep Mohinder from walking out.

"I have to go," Mohinder said softly, "Enjoy the apartment," he added almost as an after thought.

Gabriel simply nodded, not trusting his voice. He felt his chest clench as Mohinder looked away and opened the door.

He did not look back as the door closed shut behind him.


	13. All Good Things

Chapter 13

All Good Things

Summary: Mohinder and Gabriel deal with the aftermath of their kiss while a familiar face shows up to complicate things. Meanwhile, a new killer emerges.

AN: This chapter is a bit shorter then the ones previous but I figured I would get it up as soon as possible. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. There is a lot of angst in this one.  
As always a HUGE thanks to the very lovely Motsureru for the beta work.

-----

Gabriel had no idea how long he had sat on his new beige sofa with his head in hands.

There were no real thoughts except: _idiotmoronhowcouldyoubesofuckingstupid?_

Over and over again, they played on a loop, only depressing him further.

How could he have been so foolish as to assume that Mohinder would welcome any sort of advance from him? Then, to make matters worse, he had told him that he loved him. Gabriel may have been new at romantic relationships but he was pretty sure telling someone you loved them before you had even had a first date was a huge faux pas.

A knock on the front door startled him from his reverie. Gabriel nearly tripped over his own feet in order to answer it. Hoping it would be Mohinder, he flung it open.

It wasn't.

Claire was standing there with a backpack strung across her shoulders and a plastic bag of something that smelled delicious.

"Claire," Gabriel said, opening the door for her, "What are you doing here?"

Claire gave him a quizzical look in response to his flustered appearance. She pushed the bag into his hands as she stepped into the apartment. He closed the door and followed her into the living room. He watched as she tossed her bag onto the nearby sofa.

"I brought peace offerings and a welcome to the neighborhood present - I hope you like Chinese."

"Actually, I am kind of having a lousy night."

"I know, and I am here to make it better. How do you feel about a sleepover?"

"How old are we, ten?"

"You are on the early side of thirty and I am still young, sweet, and in need of a pedicure. You want give me one?"

Gabriel laughed out loud as he carried the bag of food into the kitchen and set about getting plates together.

"Ok, we can have a sleepover, but no pedicures and no mud masks."

Claire came into the kitchen and started pulling containers of food from the bag.

"How'd you know I brought stuff for a facial?"

Gabriel turned to her, grinning as he reached for a spring roll.

"'Cause somehow I know you, Claire, and the reason why your skin is so flawless."

Claire laughed out loud.

"Yeah, well, not a lot of good my complexion does me," Claire scoffed as she started to pile chicken teriyaki sticks and fried rice onto her plate.

"Guy trouble?"

"Lack of guy trouble would be more accurate," she grumbled.

"I'll trade," he offered.

"No thanks," Claire said, "I don't want your headache."

The sudden sad look that flitted across Gabriel's face caught her attention.

"Whoa! Something happened didn't it?"

He turned away from her and went to the fridge to get some drinks.

"Nothing happened," he told her.

"That's a bold-faced lie," Claire protested, "What is it Gabriel, what happened? Did you and Mohinder have a fight?"

"I don't know – I don't know what it was." Gabriel looked up, "I did something stupid." "You did?" Claire said in mock horror, but the seriousness in his eyes stopped her.

"I'm sorry, what happened?"

"I kissed him," Gabriel finished, "I am such a moron."

Claire dropped the chicken wing in her hand and turned to him.

"You did what?"

"Yeah, I kissed him and – he didn't exactly kiss me back."

Claire allowed a small smile to tease the corners of her lips.

"Well, I got to give you points for effort, Gabe. I mean I had you pegged for the shy, nerdy type and you actually had the balls to kiss Mohinder, of all people."

Gabriel just looked away, "Whatever. It's done. Let's just eat, watch a movie – heck, maybe I will let you give me a manicure."

Claire smiled as she reached for the rice container and added more to her already heaping plate.

"Yeah, you could definitely use one," she said, gesturing with her fork, "For a pretty boy, I am definitely going to have to teach you a thing or two if you expect any self-respecting guy to kiss you back."

--------

Gabriel and Claire stayed up until three in the morning. They wound up on the couch watching old movies until finally Claire had given up and fallen asleep on him.

Gabriel, however couldn't; he was far too restless. There were too many thoughts running rampant circles in his head. He desperately wanted to talk to Mohinder. Gabriel hated knowing that Mohinder was right here in the building with him, hated wondering what he was doing, imagining that he too was still up, roaming his apartment aimlessly. Maybe he, too, was too conflicted to sleep, pacing the carpet, trying to make sense out of what happened between them.

Gabriel must have eventually fallen asleep on the loveseat, which didn't exactly make one feel great in the morning when they were 6'2". He awoke to the distinct ring of Claire's cell phone and the sound of her grumbling and reaching for it. He groaned out loud and tried to stretch out the kinks in his legs.

"Yeah," he heard her Claire say as she carried on a conversation with the person on the other end. He opened a sleepy eye and watched as she stumbled away from the couch and headed towards the bathroom.

"I'll let him know."

She flicked the light on and closed the door behind her.

Gabriel got up, stretching out the sore muscles in his shoulders. The digital over the stove beeped a bright and unforgiving red as the time read only seven A.M.

He groaned out loud as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"You up?" Claire called as she came out of the bathroom, hair disheveled and eyes puffy from sleep.

"Not really, who was that?"

"Our mutual boss - he wants us to come in ASAP, so make some coffee, take a shower and I will meet you back here in a little bit. I am going to get dressed."

Gabriel nodded, "Yeah, okay."

"Man, you look like death in the morning - really, you should have taken me up on the mud mask," she smirked as she started towards the door.

"The manicure was bad enough," he retorted. He heard her snort with laughter as the door shut behind her.

-------

"Well, what gutter did you two hurl yourselves out of?"

Claire came to with a start and nearly knocked Gabriel out of his seat. They had fallen asleep on one another, Claire having left a nice, warm drool spot on his shirt. They must have been more tired than they realized because they had dozed off waiting for everyone to meet in the conference room. Claire shot Matt a death glare as she wiped at her mouth.

"Please, you are only guy I know who wakes up happy these days," Claire said belligerently. Gabriel straightened in his seat, finding the drool spot.

"Did you drool on me?" He asked, twisting to look at Claire, who shrugged. "Maybe a little," she said, smirking.

"That's just gross…"

"Sorry, I'm late." Mohinder interrupted as he stepped into the room. He hurried around the side of the table and sat down, carefully avoiding Gabriel's watchful stare as he did so.

"No, its fine – Bennett had a call to make, so once he drags his ass in here we can start." Matt informed the group.

Mohinder nodded. Gabriel wanted to appear indifferent but he couldn't seem to stop himself from staring. It was impossible for him to take his gaze away when Mohinder was sitting directly across from him. Mohinder turned his stare over to him slowly, making his face mask-like and unreadable.

Gabriel wasn't ready to let things go. He wasn't about to let Mohinder forget.

"Did you sleep well?" The tone of his question was not lost on Mohinder or anyone else in the room.

"I slept fine," Mohinder countered, with a hard emphasis on the word fine.

"Good," Gabriel said, as he forced himself to tear his gaze from the other man.

Claire cleared her throat abruptly and nudged Gabriel in the ribs.

"I need more coffee," Claire said as she stood up and pushed back her seat.

"Come help me," she told him through gritted teeth. Gabriel threw one last, long, lingering look in Mohinder's direction before he stood up and followed Claire out into the hall. Once they were as a discreet distance away, she whacked him as hard as she could in the shoulder.

"Ow," he said rubbing his arm, "What the hell was that for?"

"You want to keep it down in there?"

"Excuse me?" Gabriel said as he followed after her, side stepping other agents as they walked down to the cafeteria.

"You – eye-fucking Suresh, Christ! Even Parkman noticed and he's the world densest human being."

Gabriel felt himself blushing, lowering his head and his voice as he moved up beside her while they walked.

"I was not." Gabriel protested.

"Oh really," Claire said with a smile. She stopped long enough to turn to him.

"Yes, really." Gabriel countered.

"Hmm – so what's that about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and pointing to the quite impressive bulge in his pants.

The blush spread even deeper.

"That's not from me is it?" Claire teased.

"Shut up!"

"Are you sure? Drool turn you on? Make you hot?"

"That's not funny," Gabriel said, ducking into the nearest men's room, red with embarrassment. The sound of Claire choking with laughter following him inside.

-----

When they finally got back to the room, a round of coffees in hand, Bennett was already seated. He looked none too happy to be waiting for them.

"Nice of you two to join us," Bennett said, raising a disapproving eyebrow in their direction.

"Relax, Dad – I got you a coffee. And 'sides, Gabriel and I had a little something we had to work out."

Parkman groaned out loud and lowered his head down to the table.

Bennett turned towards Matt, who looked up and shook his head.

"You don't want to know," he said, rolling his eyes.

Claire shot him a dirty look before reaching around the table to hand out coffees.

Gabriel took a seat. He tried to avoid looking at Mohinder. Claire was right - he had to get himself under control and yet, he found his gaze drawn back to that mouth of his, still tasting him on his lips.

Mohinder caught his look and merely shook his head in response.

Gabriel shifted and looked away.

Bennett caught the exchange and groaned out loud.

"You people need to get out more," he scoffed before settling back in his seat with his coffee.

"Now - where the hell was I?"

"Houston," Matt prompted.

"Thank you. Houston - seems we have a new serial killer working their magic down in that area- prostitutes this time, male and female"

"So, where does the company fit into all of this?" Mohinder asked.

"Well, for starters something isn't quite right with this guy. The FBI is stumped, but then again, when the hell aren't they?"

Bennett paused a moment before continuing.

"We have five victims thus far, all mutilated, with their heads clean off but no trace of a weapon. There were no incision wounds- just headless people. Some were missing arms and legs as well.

Claire shivered. "Well that sounds pleasant. What are we dealing with, super strength?"

"Yeah, something like that and more I imagine."

"More?" Gabriel asked, not liking the sound of things.

"The guy is like a vapor in the sense that he leaves absolutely no trace of himself at any of the crime scenes."

"So,after are last debacle, here is the thing," Bennett continued, "I am sending you three out again and this time I need your word – all of you. No screw ups. None."

They all nodded, and Gabriel blushed as he caught Mohinder's eye.

"When do we leave?"

"You leave in the next few days," Bennett told them.

"Okay, that is all people. Parkman, stay behind, I want to talk to you."

Matt nodded as Gabriel, Mohinder and Claire pushed out of their seats and filed out of the room.

Mohinder turned to Gabriel and the look that passed between them sent a trail of fiery desire through Gabriel's gut.

Mohinder returned the look, with a vagueness that ate away at Gabriel and then started a way.

Gabriel looked towards Claire, who shook her head at him and gestured with her coffee.

"Well, what are you going to do, stand there all day sporting wood? Go talk to him."

Gabriel nodded, swallowing before he hurried to catch up with Mohinder.

"Wait, Mohinder, can I talk to you?"

Mohinder turned around sharply, causing Gabriel to pull up short to avoid slamming into him. There was a moment of awkward silence before Mohinder spoke.

"I think we said enough, for the time being." Mohinder said brusquely as he stepped past Gabriel, elbowing him out of his way. Gabriel seized his arm and pulled him back, waiting as two agents walked past them and murmured hello before turning to Mohinder, who was standing stock-still, eyes lowered to the floor. When the two men were out of ear shot, Mohinder yanked back his arm.

"I am not having this conversation with you."

"So, you're back to hating me, is that it?" Mohinder struggled to meet his eyes.

"You're a professional,Gabriel, as am I, so… please let's act like it."

Mohinder made a move to move past him but was stopped by Gabriel's hand on his arm.

"Please, just - can we have coffee or something?"

There was an unmistakable look of conflict in Mohinder's eyes. A heavy pause passed before he tore his arm out of Gabriel's grasp.

"No," he said, "I can't."

Then he was walking away. Gabriel watched him go.

----

Mohinder managed to pull himself through yet another long work day, but keeping his mind off Gabriel and what had happened between them the day before was difficult to say the least. He kept finding himself snapping at his co-workers, becoming increasingly irritated. By the time he got home he was shaking, filled with equal parts fury and a cold, aching sadness.

He tossed his coat off unceremoniously and went to the freezer, pulling a bottle of vodka from it. Mohinder desperately needed something to take the edge off his dark thoughts. He was well aware this wasn't the healthiest of ways to cope with the situation at hand, and yet, even still, a night of dwelling on that kiss, of wanting…

No, this was a probably a more sane plan in the long run. A few drinks and then perhaps he would simply pass out on the couch, putting away the thoughts in his head aside for at least a few blissful hours.

He took the bottle in hand and a glass into the living room, where he threw himself on his sofa. He kicked off his shoes and started to drink, barely noticing the tears in his eyes as he sat there and started sipping, doing his best to will away the ache inside his chest.

----

There was a knock on the door of his apartment. Mohinder stood up, feeling decidedly light headed and dizzy from the liquor. He stumbled over to the door and opened it, finding Peter standing there with his suitcase and an overnight bag.

"I just came from the airport; I thought you might actually have picked me up."

Mohinder only stared at him, confused. What the hell was Peter doing at his doorstep at ten thirty at night? Mohinder blinked and leaned against the door frame, trying to gain balance.

"I called you – left you a message. Did you even get it?" Peter demanded. He seemed thoroughly annoyed as he stepped past Mohinder and made his way into the apartment. He sat his bags down by the couch, noticing the near-empty liquor bottle. He turned back to find Mohinder closing the door and then sagging against it, far too inebriated to continue holding himself upright without support.

"Are you drunk?" Peter shouted at him, furious. He went over to Mohinder and peeled him off the door. Peter took him the shoulders and forcefully sat him down on the sofa.

"Goddamn it Mohinder… not again… I am not…going to let him do this to you again." Mohinder shoved him off and tried to stand, but Peter pushed him back against the cushions.

Peter knelt down beside him, and reached for his hand.

"Just get the hell away from me…" Mohinder protested belligerently, arms folded, his eyes burning with liquor and anger. Peter only shook his head sadly.

"Just stop, Mohinder, alright? You've been pushing me away for the last four years, enough!"

Mohinder turned his face back towards Peter's, meeting his concerned brown eyes. He watched as the anger then gave way to sadness, a deep wave of it surged inside him. He leaned forward, pressing his face in the crook of Peter's neck, and began to cry into it.

"I'm so sorry Peter," Mohinder trembled as he felt Peter pull him closer and kiss the side of his face while he cried.

"I never wanted to hurt you…"

Peter pulled him back and wiped at Mohinder's tears with the pads of fingers, hushing him.

"It's okay; you don't need to apologize…"

"I just – I just want him out of my head." Mohinder moaned as he sank once more into Peter's arms. He let Peter rock him back and forth gently.

"I could fucking kill Bennett for putting you in this position," Peter seethed.

"It's not his fault," Mohinder murmured, "He doesn't know – he doesn't know what happened between…"

Peter pressed his lips to Mohinder's own, hushed him with soft words.

"Hey, it's okay, you know I'll stay with you. I'll take care of you."

Mohinder pulled back, eyes hazy with liquor and pain glazing his expression.

"Will you stay Peter?" he murmured as he reached for Peter and pulled him to his arms, covering his mouth in a hungry, greedy kiss. His hands immediately went for Peter's belt buckle, pulling him down onto the chair and on top of him.

"Please, don't leave me."

Mohinder's hands and kisses were greedy and desperate; dragging off Peter's shirt, he attacked the other man, who submitted to his rough, drunken embraces even though he knew he shouldn't.

Mohinder was drunk and…

Yet despite just how wrong the situation was, Peter still wanted him desperately.

He was so in love with Mohinder, and he still ached for him, needing nothing more than to make love to him once again.

Mohinder was making soft mewling sounds as he rubbed Peter's growing erection. It was a hard, desperate thing to do, and Mohinder was begging, moaning into his mouth.

"Fuck me, please…I need you to - please fuck me, hurt me."

Those words jerked Peter back to reality. He pulled back, stumbling as he realized what Mohinder wanted. He found himself sickened and horrified.

Mohinder went to reach for him again but Peter swatted his hand away.

"Just stop it. I am done, do you hear me?! I am not - I am not letting you fuck him through me ever again!"

It seemed as if all the air was suddenly drained from the room. Mohinder couldn't face the look in Peter's eyes; shame filled him.

He lowered his head, unable to look at the other man.

"It's not like that," Mohinder protested weakly. He forced himself to look up and meet Peter's angry glare.

"The hell it isn't!" Peter shouted at him.

"Peter -"

"No, Mohinder…this stops now, okay - I finally get it- I always did but I loved you so goddamn much that I was willing to deal with it…Deal with the fact that every time, every single time…"

Peter's voice broke then and he looked away, holding a hand to his face as he tried to regain composure. Then, after a long moment, he finally looked back to find Mohinder sitting there, still, head in hands.

Peter sighed and went to his side, kneeling down next to him. Peter took Mohinder's hands away from his face and made the other man look at him.

The broken look in Peter's eyes was more than Mohinder thought he could take. He hated himself, knowing full well that Peter truly cared for him. He hated knowing that there might have been a chance that they could have been happy. If not for…

Mohinder felt deeply conflicted, wanting so desperately to give Peter everything he wanted from him, everything in the world that he deserved… but he just couldn't. It wasn't fair - he had to end it now. This vicious circle where they both only wound up hurting one another was all his fault, not Peter's. Mohinder knew that now.

Peter was determined to have his say and as much as those words would hurt, would be like ripping the scab off a freshly healed wound, Peter knew they had to be said. His voice was a faint whisper when he spoke again.

"I know you never loved me. I know I was always the substitute for what you really wanted. And I could have made you happy, Mohinder- we could have been happy."

"I know that," Mohinder admitted, his own voice breaking. "I know and I am so sorry."

Peter had to look away again, as the sight of Mohinder breaking down in front of him, coming apart, was too much.

"I hate him, I hate him so fucking much," Peter seethed, "He gets to have everything erased from him, every horrible fucking thing and…"

Mohinder reached for Peter but he was angry again, furious. He got up and started pacing the carpet in front of Mohinder.

"You, you have to wake up with it - all of it, and he - what - just starts over…and…"

There was a stricken look that swept across Peter's face as he paused in the middle of his rant and turned towards Mohinder.

"You still love him, don't you?"

Mohinder hadn't expected that question, and if he was too be honest, he didn't know the answer.

He only knew that he could not go a moment without thinking of him, without hating himself for wanting to touch him or have back for just a moment the feeling they had shared in Montana when the possibility of love was still real, still available to them.

Peter just looked at him, shaking his head, and Mohinder realized then that Peter was in his head; he already knew the truth.

"How can you, how can you after…"

"I don't know, I don't know. Peter, if I could- if I could give you what you want I would."

"I just want you to be happy, but as long as he's around, it's only going to -"

There was a sudden look of utter shock the flitted across Peter's face then. He whirled around to face Mohinder.

"You kissed him?"

Peter looked shocked as he pulled back and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"You fucking kissed him!"

"Peter -" Mohinder made an attempt to get up and go to him, but the absolute rage in Peter's expression made him sit back.

"What were you thinking? Christ, Mohinder - what are you, insane?"

Mohinder went to speak but a knock on the door stopped them. They both froze at the sound of it.

"Is that him?" Peter demanded.

Mohinder went to stand but Peter shot him a look before going to the door.

Mohinder went after him in his drunken daze, stumbling a bit. He called after him but Peter refused to heed him.

He flung open the door to find a surprised and very nervous Gabriel standing there.

"Hey Peter," he managed to get out before Peter hit him as hard as he could. The blow sent Gabriel across the hall and into the wall behind him.

There was instant pain and a sure bruise already spreading angry and purple across his jaw.

Gabriel pushed himself up, shocked.

"You have some fucking nerve…"

Mohinder had managed to make it to the door and pushed past Peter to try to get between them.

"What the hell?" Gabriel demanded, his eyes on Mohinder.

"I'm sorry," he began, but Peter pushed him aside and started back towards Gabriel.

"Look at him! Do you see what you have done to him? Do you even know?"

"No, I don't!" Gabriel fired back.

"Yeah, exactly- aren't you fucking lucky, huh? You get to have it all taken away from you, but Mohinder…"

"Goddamn it Peter, stop it!" Mohinder shouted but Peter ignored him.

"He gets to spend three days in a fucking coma because you…"

Mohinder whirled around and shoved Peter back as hard as he could, causing Peter to nearly lose his footing and fall.

"I said shut up!"

When Peter lifted his gaze, there was fury there that Mohinder had rarely seen before. Peter narrowed his eyes, and turned to Gabriel with a look that could have frozen water.

"When and if I get the chance to kill your sorry ass…" Peter words trailed off as he turned and went back to the apartment, roughly pushing Mohinder aside as he went. Gabriel and Mohinder exchanged a look.

"You should go," Mohinder said softly.

Gabriel looked over his shoulder, watching as Peter stormed around the apartment, slamming things loudly in the process.

"Are you sure?"

Mohinder nodded, "You need to go."

Gabriel took a deep breath. "Did you- did you really…"

"Just go," Mohinder whispered, his eyes red, his expression one of pure pain.

There were so many things that Gabriel wanted to say to him; so many things he knew he needed to apologize for, so many wrongs between them that ached to be righted. But he could do nothing at that moment except respect Mohinder's wishes and leave.


	14. Lost Causes

The Road to Redemption

Part 14

Lost Causes

Summary: Mohinder confronts Bennett and learns a few hard truths while Peter and Gabriel finally get out their aggression towards one another.

AN: Thank you as always to my awesome beta Motsureru.

&&&  
Gabriel slammed his way into his apartment throwing the door open so hard that the doorknob cracked the drywall behind it. Gabriel barely noticed such a thing as he turned around long enough to kick the door shut.

He was furious, so angry his whole body was shaking. He felt along his jaw line; he could feel the bruise already forming. Yet his face had gone numb where Peter hit him. Peter had thrown him one hell of a punch. Gabriel was surprised he hadn't taken his jaw off in the process. He hadn't figured Peter had that kind of strength.

Yet, as angry as Gabriel was for being hit and humiliated by Peter, the truth was he felt even angrier with himself. He still didn't know the exact extent of what he had done to Mohinder in the first place that made Peter hate him, but what hurt most was the realization that he probably deserved Peter's wrath.

That was what ate at Gabriel now. The simple knowledge that he had done something so awful to Mohinder that Peter could look him dead in the eye and without a flicker of apprehension hit him as if he meant to kill him.

The not knowing what had transpired between himself and Mohinder was slowly killing him. He wondered now what had been so awful - had he tried to kill Mohinder? Had Mohinder spent those three days in a coma because of something that he had done to him?

The thought sickened him. He had cared about Mohinder; somewhere deep inside him, in a place he could not name, Gabriel knew with absolute certainty. Then how in the hell could he have hurt him?

&&&

"Peter? You want to get the hell off my couch and tell me what you're doing here?"

Peter opened his eyes. He blinked into the harsh light of day to find his niece standing over him wearing nothing but a bathrobe and a surly expression.

Claire stood arms crossed, her usual perfectly coifed blonde hair in an untidy pile on top of her head. She glared at him through eyes puffy with sleep. Peter groaned and pushed himself up, yawning as he did so.

"What? Am I not welcome here?" He asked as he pulled himself into sitting position.

"Of course you are," Claire answered quickly, "You just might want to warn a girl first before you phase through her door and make yourself at home on her love seat."

Peter chuckled, "How'd you know?"

"My front door is still locked you moron. Now why in the hell are you here?"

"I got reassigned," Peter said, wiping sleep from his tired eyes.

Claire threw herself on the overstuffed chair next to him. She gave him a pointed look.

"You mean you put in for a transfer."

Peter rolled his eyes at her, but he didn't answer.

"So let me guess, you showed up on Mohinder's doorstep, batting those sad, puppy-dog eyes at him and he took one look at you in slammed the door in your face."

Peter turned to her with a dirty look.

"How 'bout I went to his apartment and found him so drunk he could barely walk, torturing himself because of that …"

Claire didn't let him finish.

"So therefore you figured you would waltz back into his life and give him a lecture on how to live it?"

Peter only shook his head at that. He knew no matter what he said, Claire wouldn't understand where he was coming from. It had been a mistake coming here. He would have been better off sleeping at the damn airport. He got up and started hunting under the coffee table for the shoes he had kicked off somewhere in the middle of the night.

"Wake up, Claire…"

"What does that mean?" She huffed.

Peter shot her look.

"You don't get it, do you?"

Claire stood abruptly, pulling her robe tighter around her; she shivered then as if she were cold.

"I get that you are acting like a jealous asshole, look Peter – I love you and I am sorry about you and Mohinder but look at yourself…"

Peter was angry.

"So, what in the hell am I looking at exactly? Huh Claire? You care to enlighten me with your little pearls of wisdom?" He shot back sarcastically.

Claire was more or less fed up with him. As much as she could understand where he was coming from, as much as she knew his heart, though slightly off, was more or less in the right place, she was still tired of trying to get through to him. He just refused to see that he and Mohinder were over. Mohinder didn't love him. Peter was wasting his life on someone who never would. It was time he faced up to that.

"Try self pity," Claire said firmly. They locked eyes for a long moment, before Peter snorted and looked away from her.

"You know what? You can think what you want, Claire. You can go right ahead and pretend that Gabriel Gray and the man who tried to kill you are two separate people."

"They are," Claire protested, but her words lacked conviction. She was thinking about the events that had transpired in New York; her stomach dropped as she remembered facing Sylar again after four years.

Peter was staring at her curiously. It was too late, she realized,as he was already in her head and reading her thoughts.

"Get out of my head, Peter!" She shouted at him.

"What do you mean he came back?"

"He didn't –"Claire started.

Peter interrupted her. "So, that explains an awful lot," Peter said, "And I take it you couldn't do your job, huh?"

The absolute viciousness of his tone took Claire back but she pulled herself together, glaring at him.

"You know he was only protecting Mohinder and truthfully, Mohinder could have very well died that night if – if …"

"If what? Sylar hadn't decided to show up and try to kill you!"

Claire didn't answer him.

"You believe whatever it is that helps you sleep at night – go on and believe that your new best friend is just as docile and sweet as he appears because you know as well as I do that he isn't. You mark my words he will rip your throat out when you least expect it."

"You're wrong about him," Claire argued, "You don't even know how wrong you are." Peter scoffed at that and sat back down to put on his shoes. He straightened his shoulders.

"Let me ask you something." Peter said.

Claire went to say something sarcastic but stopped herself at the sight of her uncle's face. There was something so sad in his expression as he looked at her that instantly her anger towards him melted away and was replaced with sympathy. She found herself nodding.

"Okay," she answered, "Ask me."

Peter paused, wording himself carefully.

"Why are you doing this? Protecting him?"

Claire sighed before answering him.

"'Cause I believe in second chances, Peter – I don't believe in lost causes. I believe that even when something is so wrong – so utterly and completely wrong – that somewhere and somehow there can and will be some right there too, and you know what Peter, we really aren't so different in that respect. I know those are all things you believe in too."

Peter was silent for a long moment. He nodded and looked up to her eyes. There was an unspoken realization of truce between them. "You're right," he said quietly.

&&&

"I need a word with you," Mohinder said.

Bennett looked up from his desk to greet the man standing in the doorway of his office.

Bennett was quick to gather from the surly expression on the other man's face that he wasn't there for a social visit.

"Just one," he answered with a slight smirk.

Mohinder was clearly not amused as he stepped further into the room.

"Alright then, come in," Bennett said obligingly. Mohinder turned long enough to shut the door behind him.

"Please have a seat." Bennett offered.

Mohinder shook his head.

"I'm fine standing," he said briskly. There was something definitely up with him. Bennett had a pretty good idea what that something was.

"So what can I do you for?"

"I am not going to Houston," Mohinder responded, his mouth set in a firm, grim line.

There was absolute assurance on his face that made Bennett pause, but still he was used to dealing with Mohinder when he was like this- stubborn and determined not to back down.

"I think you are," Bennett said, carefully.

"No, I am not," Mohinder told him a bit more forcefully.

"Are you giving me an order, doctor?" Bennett's question no longer hid the obvious irritation in his voice.

"You can call it what you like," Mohinder said, meeting the other man's careful gaze, "But the fact remains that I can not work with either Peter Petrelli or Gabriel Gray and that's final."

Mohinder turned heeled and started towards the door. He figured the best way to end what would only surely end in an argument was to walk away.

Apparently, Bennett wasn't finished.

"Is this because you've slept with both of them?"

Mohinder felt as if someone had thrown ice water across his back, he shuddered and turned back around slowly.

Bennett was watching him carefully, obviously gauging his reaction.

"What would you know about any of that?"

"Nothing, besides the fact that those two can't go five minutes without fighting over you."

"You've crossed the line, Bennett," Mohinder argued hotly.

"Apparently so have you, Mohinder. It's dangerous business getting involved with your colleagues."

Mohinder could barely keep the anger he felt in check. He took a deep breath, willing himself to seem indifferent to Bennett's words.

"If you know so much then you would know that I haven't slept with… Gabriel…"

"No, but you slept with Sylar, didn't you? Or would you prefer if we referred to him as Zane?"

Those words snapped something dark and angry out of Mohinder.

"Are you telling me that you knew - you knew all this time and even still - still you made me partner that man!"

"I suggest you keep your voice down Mohinder."

"And I suggest you give me some goddamn answers!"

Bennett took a deep breath and then stood, going around the side of the table towards Mohinder.

Mohinder backed up, holding up a hand in response to the man's advance.

"Don't give me that bullshit sympathy," Mohinder protested, "Just fucking tell me what you hoped to accomplish by putting me through this…"

"I wanted to see how strong you were," Bennett answered simply, as if his response made all the sense in the world.

Mohinder's dark eyes flashed dangerously.

"If you know so much about me then you would know…"

"That what you tried to kill yourself?"

Mohinder shuddered, anger coursing through him.

How dare he? How dare the company do this to him? As if he were some guinea pig they could test and study… He wanted to lash out. He took a deep breath and tried to restrain himself; in the meanwhile, he needed answers.

"Mohinder, I knew that. Of course I knew. Who in the hell do you think Petrelli called when you nearly died on him? Who do you think pulled the necessary strings needed to find doctors competent enough to keep you alive?"

"Fuck you." Mohinder hissed sharply.

"Mohinder, I know everything. I know about…"

Mohinder shivered then, suddenly bone-chillingly cold.

"Don't," he started.

"I know what he did to you." Bennett finished. He seemed to have the good grace to keep from uttering those words out loud. Mohinder stiffened visibly, feeling bile rise in his throat.

The other man's tone made it quite clear exactly what it was that he_ knew._

Mohinder swallowed hard then. He had to turn away, breathe deeply for a moment before he could speak. When he did his voice was hoarse, barely audible, but Bennett heard him.

"Did he - did Sylar tell you?"

"More or less," Bennett answered frankly.

Mohinder nodded. "Parkman?"

"Yeah, Sylar wouldn't talk to us directly when he brought him in. He was more or less wrecked emotionally. He was definitely a far cry from the man I met when we had him here the first time. We tried to get in his head but Sylar was good - we kept getting road blocked. But even still we learned what happened with his mother and with you of course. He asked us to take it away from him. He wanted to forget. And you know what his last memory was, the one he wanted to forget the most? It was that night. What he did to you…"

Mohinder felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision. His stomach twisted in a painful knot. He felt as if he would be sick. He just wanted to run away from the words he couldn't seem to prevent Bennett from speaking.

"Please just…"

Bennett had to finish. He knew now that Mohinder deserved the truth. He figured it was the very least he could give to him.

"You see Mohinder, Sylar wanted nothing more than to forget you ever existed. I just want you to know that I am sorry, for both your sakes, that I couldn't let that be."

Mohinder drew in a sharp, painful breath, meeting his eyes.

"Not as sorry as I am." Mohinder said sharply before turning and slamming his way out of Bennett's office.

&&&

Peter and Claire bumped into Matt on his way into the gym. He was chugging an energy drink while looking as if he would fall asleep on his feet.

"Working out now?" Peter asked him.

Matt made a face as he held open the doors for them.

"Yeah, well when your wife threatens to padlock the fridge you start questioning your…" "Mortality?" Claire offered.

"Sex life." Matt finished with a grimace.

Peter laughed at that.

"So yeah, as an act of good faith I got up at 6, loaded up on the chemicals, dug out my least itchy sneakers and dragged my ass …"

There was a pause as the trio took in the sight of a near empty gym save for Gabriel. He was standing in the middle of the room, beating the ever loving shit out of a punching bag. He was covered in sweat, obviously using his workout as an excuse to let out some much needed stress.

Claire was instantly concerned. She went to go towards him but Peter grabbed her arm and tugged her back.

"You pissed about something?" Peter called out.

Gabriel spun around at the sound of those words. It was quite clear he had been taken off guard by the approaching trio. He looked from one face to the other, panting and out of breath.

There was a purplish bruise across the left side of his jaw. The dark shadows under his eyes left evidence that he had not been sleeping well.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. He turned away from Peter and started going back to work on the bag. The sight of his rival was enough to refuel his anger; he set about his work out with a renewed fit of energy.

"Why do you have to start?" Claire asked Peter. It annoyed her that their early morning conversation hadn't seemed to do a stitch of good.

"Who's starting?" Peter asked her with a smirk. Claire hated when he got condescending like this. She resisted the urge to turn around and knee him in the balls.

Instead, she rolled her eyes and called him a jerk under her breath.

Peter ignored her as he strode up behind Gabriel, coughed obnoxiously to get his attention. Gabriel gritted his teeth in response. He paused and turned around slowly to face the other man.

"Nice bruise you got there," Peter pointed out. The smirk on his face was infuriating.

Gabriel had to will himself to keep calm. He knew Peter was trying to get a rise out him.

"Yeah, you must be proud of yourself – sucker punching a guy!" Gabriel huffed.

"What, that sting or something? You know unfortunately for you I picked up quite a few tricks since the last time we fought."

"When you say fought. You mean when I killed you, right?"

Gabriel couldn't resist. He wanted to wipe that stupid sneer off Peter's face. It worked.

"Fuck you!" Peter advanced on him.

"What, you have a problem with something I said?" Gabriel countered, feigning innocence.

Gabriel squared back his shoulders. He made a decision then and there to stand his ground.

He was done with Peter Petrelli and his fucking bullshit.

"Oh good god," Claire swore. She held her breath as the two moved towards one another. This was not going to end well.

"They don't like one another, do they?" Matt asked.

Claire turned to him, "Oh, what tipped you off, mind reader?"

"I don't know. It could be the all out fist fight, perhaps…"

Claire spun back around to see what Matt was looking at.

True enough, Gabriel and Peter were now going at it, trading blows as best they could. The problem was that each man had been trained well and was quick enough to dodge the fists flying. It was a fact that clearly irritated the both of them as they struggled to get the upper hand on the other.

Then Gabriel got in a hit – one that broke Peter's nose with sickening crunch of bone that even some thirty odd feet away could be heard by both Matt and Claire. They winced at the sound of it while Peter went down to his knees. He held a hand over his face, while blood poured through his hands.

"Son of a bitch!" he howled. Gabriel stood back and watched. The proud grin on his face forced Peter back up. He quickly snapped the broken bones into place, allowing them to fuse together and heal.

Gabriel had figured that might be the end of it. Not so.

A thoroughly pissed off Peter went back at his opponent, his anger renewed.

"Is that all you got?" Peter challenged. He wiped a smear of blood from his lips and moved back into a fighting stance.

"Not even a fraction." Gabriel said coldly, raising an eyebrow as he swung out with his left arm. Peter caught him by the elbow and flung him towards the wall. Gabriel pushed himself away from it as if he were barely phased and went back at Peter, landing a roundhouse to the gut that knocked Peter backwards and to the floor.

"You fucker! You cracked my ribs!" Peter shouted as he pushed himself up.

"Need a time out so you can cry about it?" Gabriel taunted.

Peter leapt to his feet, sweat running down his face. His mouth was set in a grim line as he flew back at Gabriel. They volleyed shots back and forth, groaning in frustration as they countered one another's moves expertly.

"I am breaking this up," Claire said as she started towards them. Matt grabbed her arm. "Are you kidding, this is exactly what these two need. Seriously, let them beat the unholy crap out of each other for awhile."

Claire turned on him, "Are you fucking serious? Do you think this is a joke? You know as well as I do what those two could do each other!"

Matt only smirked at that, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, Suresh is a good looking guy and all but I doubt I'd let either one of them wail on my face for a date with him."

Claire just snorted with disgust as she turned back towards the scene before them.

"Come on bring it!" Peter shouted as he spun around and threw a high kick right for Gabriel's face. Gabriel stepped back, dodging the blow. He caught Peter easily by the ankle, twisting it. He used the momentum of the other man's attack to send him back into the wall with a loud, resounding thud.

Matt was clearly enjoying himself, much to Claire's dismay.

"Shit, this is better then that pay preview ultimate fighting bullshit!"

"You're an asshole." Claire snorted.

She had seen enough. It was quite clear that Gabriel was getting hurt; he wasn't blessed with the ability to regenerate. Though both were now covered in blood, it was only Gabriel who was cut and bruised.

"Cut it out!" She said as she moved between them, forcing both men to pull up short to avoid hitting her. They stopped, breathing heavy, cautiously still watching the other, waiting for him to strike when the other had their guard down.

"What the fuck is the matter with you two?" Claire demanded as she favored each of them with a scathing glare.

"Why don't you ask him why in the hell he decided to punch me in the face last night?" Gabriel fired back.

Claire's angry gaze went to her uncle.

"You punched him?"

"You had it coming, you piece of shit! And more!" Peter shouted, ignoring her as he moved back towards him. Claire stopped him.

Matt decided to make his way over towards them.

"She's right guys - cut it out." Matt remarked, taking a swig of his drink.

"Don't make me send you two to detention." he joked in an effort to make light of the situation.

It didn't work. The entire group turned long enough to shoot him a dirty look. Matt simply shrugged at the three sets of eyes turned on him.

"Hey, I fucking tried." he said, not sounding too put out by their less than cheery response.

Gabriel took a deep breath now that the adrenaline was fading. He could feel his whole body literally coming alive with pain. He was hurt, a thought that infuriated him considering Petrelli was simply standing there, giving him the evil eye with not a mark on him.

"I am done with your shit. Just- just stay the fuck away from me!" Gabriel told Peter.

He started heading towards the locker room.

"Yeah, well I am not done with you, you hear me!" Peter shouted to his retreating back.

Claire whirled on him, shoving him hard in the chest.

"You asshole - you really hurt him!"

"He'll live," Peter snapped, "Unfortunately," he added under his breath.

"Uh! Fucking forget it," Claire said, shaking her head as she marched away from him.

Peter just stood there, turning to Matt, who simply shrugged.

"Hey, I don't got a problem with you- no need to burn a hole my head."

Peter simply waved him off and pushed him aside, going after his niece.

"God, fucking gay men." Matt grumbled to himself, "They may be prettier, but at least I don't have to get the shit beaten out of me just to get laid."

&&&

Gabriel had left the door to his apartment open as he busied himself packing his things for their Houston assignment. Word around the company was that Bennett and Mohinder had one hell of a fight. Mohinder had asked for a transfer and Bennett had refused, which had erupted in an all out war. Gabriel knew without a doubt that he had been the cause of their argument. He was more than a little angry with himself for the mess that he had made of what was before a decent situation. He and Mohinder had started to warm up to one another, but he had to be the fool who ruined it.

Gabriel heard his door being pushed open as someone knocked once sharply.

He looked up from zipping up his bag to find Mohinder standing at his front door.

Gabriel felt his chest tighten at the sight of him, wondering if there would ever be a time when just the mere sight of Mohinder didn't knock the wind out of him.

They each eyed one another for a moment before Gabriel put his head back down and continued getting his things together.

Gabriel held his breath as he waited for Mohinder to speak.

There was a heavy sigh from the other man.

Mohinder came in and shut the door behind him.

"Let me see your face," Mohinder said softly as he made his way over to the sofa.

Gabriel looked up, "I'm fine," he replied stiffly.

Mohinder took in the cut under his eye, the bloody lip, the purple bruise under his jaw. Peter had done quite a number on him. Mohinder could tell by the way Gabriel gritted his teeth when bending over that he had a few cracked ribs as well.

Mohinder touched his arm and Gabriel seemed to equal parts melt and recoil under his touch. He turned sad and utterly irresistible brown eyes towards Mohinder.

Mohinder felt as if all the air was suddenly released from his body. He lifted his hand and touched Gabriel's face. Gabriel let out a shuddering breath but didn't pull away from the touch. He simply nuzzled into it with his chin.

Gabriel dragged his eyes up to Mohinder's own, daring himself to make eye contact.

Mohinder found he could neither look away nor keep his fingers from exploring the face in front of him.

That face- once Mohinder had believed that in those eyes of Gabriel's he had found someone he could imagine himself falling in love with. Yet, the memory of the betrayal he had felt, the hatred of being played for a blind fool, stung.

And even still he could not stop himself from touching him.

His fingers traced the cut, down along the tender and bruised flesh of his jaw. Gabriel caught his hand easily enough. Mohinder breath held as Gabriel leaned into him, covering the space between them.

"Tell me," he said softly.

"Gabriel -"

"I know it's bad, I know, but… you can't protect me forever."

Mohinder tried to pull his hand back but Gabriel clung tight.

"I can sure as hell try." Mohinder insisted.

"Don't," Gabriel told him firmly, "You don't have to anymore."

"You -"

"I know, I know you think I don't want to know but I need to. I need you to know that I want to…I have to…"

Mohinder managed to rip his hand away. He was panting now, instantly out of breath. He turned his face away.

There was a long and heavy pause.

Mohinder looked away from him.

"You killed my father." Mohinder murmured, his voice so low Gabriel wasn't sure if he had heard him right.

"Did you… say…"

Mohinder turned back and his eyes were red, his mouth a grimace.

"That's what I said, Gabriel…"

"Oh god, I - I'm sorry - why, why would I…"

"It's a long story, Gabriel ..."

"Is that how we met?"

"No, not exactly," Mohinder answered, rather reluctantly.

"I came to New York from India, gave up a pretty prestigious career teaching genetics at an University to continue my father's research. Research into finding people like you and Peter and Claire, people with these amazing abilities and - that's how we met."

Gabriel stood stock still as Mohinder started to speak, his voice sounding distant and faraway as he recounted the events that had transpired four years ago, the events that had changed both of their lives forever.

"You killed a man named Zane Taylor, a man who had called me for help. He had the ability to melt metal."

Gabriel's eyes widened and he swallowed thickly.

"Cleveland."

Mohinder looked at him strangely, "Excuse me?"

"When we were in Cleveland, I wondered how you knew I could do that when we tried to get into that pyro's basement. You knew?"

"I am well aware of what you can do." Mohinder said softly.

There was a thoughtful silence. Gabriel cleared his throat after a moment.

"So, I killed this man, this Zane…"

Mohinder nodded. Gabriel had to look away then. The pained and stricken look on Mohinder's face was almost too much for him.

He could tell that Mohinder was struggling with telling him what had happened. Gabriel could see that each and every word he spoke was almost too painful for him to get out.

His voice was hoarse as he continued.

"And impersonated him. So when we met you led me to believe you were him, for three days we traveled across the country to meet a woman with extrasensory hearing."

Gabriel knew what that meant and he stiffened. It was difficult for him to hear. He had known how he had obtained his extraordinary powers but actual details had always been something that Bennett had sought to keep him from knowing. Gabriel supposed the best way to keep a power-hungry serial killer reigned in was to keep as much in the dark as possible. Yet, Gabriel was tired of living in that darkness, that never-ending limbo. It hurt, hurt to hear first hand the monstrous, evil things that he had done to others.

But he knew that the time had come for him to face who he had been. If he ever hoped to make things right between him and Mohinder, he had to come to terms with himself.

He had to finally and forever sever Sylar from himself. This was a start; a slow one, but a start nevertheless. He just hoped that Mohinder saw it as such.

"I killed this woman…" Gabriel finished, feeling nauseated.

"Yes, the same night- the night we-" Mohinder's voice broke then and he started back up, moving away from Gabriel. There was so much pain and hurt in his eyes that Gabriel could hardly bear to look at him.

His face felt too hot and his chest too tight.

"We spent the night together." Mohinder finished.

Gabriel had to look away then, searching deep within himself, trying so hard to pull any memory at all from those moments that Mohinder mentioned, but all that rushed to greet him was a hazy, darkened abyss. The frustration and the pain stung. He looked up.

"Then what happened…"

"I think I said all I can-" Mohinder admitted.

"Mohinder -"

Gabriel moved closer to him but Mohinder continued backing away, biting his lip.

"Really, I can't…"

"You spent three days in a coma because of me…"

"No, not directly…"

But the dark and hurt expression in Mohinder's face made Gabriel realize that there was a lot more to it than Mohinder was letting him in on.

Gabriel lowered his head and then turned back to his things.

"Is that why Peter hates me so much?"

Mohinder took his time in answering.

"He hates you because…I loved you," Mohinder informed him.

Gabriel's head snapped back , feeling as if he had been hit hard in the gut.

The pain in his ribs paled in comparison to the absolute emotion in which Mohinder spoke those words.

Gabriel's eyes were misty with unshed tears, the lump in his throat was painful as he struggled to get out the words lodged there.

"And now?" Gabriel managed to choke out.

Mohinder used every ounce of his strength as he answered Gabriel.

"Now, I don't." he lied.

They each stared at the other, and then Gabriel made a decision.

Gabriel crossed the feet between them in a mere second. This time when he reached for Mohinder, this time when he cupped his face between his palms and lowered his lips to Mohinder's own…

Mohinder kissed him back.


	15. Escape from the Past

Part 15

Escape from the Past

Summary: The group is split up and sent on separate assignments, while a mysterious drawing leaves Gabriel worried about the future.

AN: A HUGE apology for the delay. December was a crazy month…forgive me?

It hadn't been planned. Yet here they were, backed up against Gabriel's closed bedroom door, and locked in each other's arms. The rest of the world was forgotten for the moment.

The kiss between them had started off almost unbearably slow. Gabriel waited as Mohinder gradually began to melt into the kiss. Mohinder dug his fingertips into the soft flesh of Gabriel's lower back and pulled him closer until they were pressed firmly against one another.

Then it was if something between them was lit, sparked. Mohinder moaned into the feel of Gabriel's lips pressed firmly and desperately against his own.

That was all it took for them to come together in a near fury of lips and hands, clawing and eager for one another.

In that moment, four years, four long unbearable years of want and need erupted out of them.

They greedily caressed every available inch of the other, hungry for it.

Mohinder backed them up, his hands curling into fistfuls of Gabriel's shirt. He pressed the taller man into the wall, allowing his mind to blank. Mohinder concentrated now only on the taste and feel of the other.

Mohinder pushed all other stubborn thoughts of doubt and hesitance away and thought of only how good it felt. He needed this. He wanted it, _him_.

Gabriel, for his part, could do little more then willingly give control over to Mohinder. He could feel his legs start to buckle in response to Mohinder's ardent attention. Gabriel was grateful for the support of the wall behind him.

He was pretty sure that without it, he wouldn't be able to stand up on his own.

He dropped his head back, allowing Mohinder further access. Mohinder set about kissing his bared neck and down to his shoulders, twirling his tongue in the crook there before biting down on the soft flesh, a gesture which caused Gabriel to hiss through clenched teeth. He buried his hands in Mohinder's hair, urging him closer.

"Mohinder, oh God," Gabriel panted, his hardness grinding into the other man's thigh in a desperate need for friction. He was so hard he hurt, and he hooked his leg around Mohinder jean-clad legs as he moved against him, bucking and thrusting desperately to feel more of him. Mohinder moved his lips back up, slowly creating a fiery trail of tongue and teeth before he reached upwards and claimed Gabriel's begging lips for his own.

Mohinder's lips were sucking and pulling, nibbling as they swallowed Gabriel's panting breaths. Mohinder's hands went under Gabriel tee shirt to trail smooth palms up along the expanse of his stomach muscles.

Mohinder could feel them flutter under his almost painfully soft, teasing touch, fingertips gliding forward to tease his hardening nipples.

Gabriel could barely find the air to fill his lungs let alone let out any coherent noises.

The rise Mohinder stirred in him with those fingertips of his dancing along the planes of his body was unreal.

It was then that Mohinder found the scar, the silver pucker of scar tissue under Gabriel's left nipple. As he grazed it, Mohinder gasped out loud as if the flesh there singed him.

Mohinder pulled back and stepped away hesitantly. There was something in his eyes now, something that took Gabriel away from the intensity of the moment and straight into the reality of everything that had come before.

"Mo-" Gabriel started, not knowing what to do. Mohinder looked ready to bolt. Gabriel braced himself for it. Then surprisingly Mohinder was moving back towards him, this time resting his face against his shoulder. He sagged against Gabriel as if all his strength had abandoned him. He kept his hands still under Gabriel's shirt, palms pressed flat.

"That wasn't there before," he murmured, almost sadly, "Does it hurt?"

Gabriel removed Mohinder's hands gently. He pulled him back by the wrists.

"No," he said quickly, moving back away from Mohinder.

There was a moment as they each eyed the other wearily. Then it was as if Mohinder came to an inner decision, one that he had been struggling with. He reached down and pulled Gabriel flush against him by his hips.

Gabriel moaned out loud as Mohinder's hands slid downwards, reaching with urgent neediness for the buckle of his jeans. Mohinder pulled at the belt roughly, simultaneously sliding a hand down under the waistband of Gabriel's boxers.

Gabriel drew a painful breath inwards at the shocking feeling of those soft, smooth hands sliding between cloth and bare skin. Gabriel threw his head back, hitting the wall sharply in the process. Gabriel was so aroused his whole body felt as if he was on fire.

He felt tears spring to his eyes as he started pleading, muttering curses and oaths under his breath.

"Please…"he whispered, "Please, Mohinder."

Then they heard someone call for Gabriel from the front door. They both paused then, alarmed. They stood still there, not even daring to breathe as they heard the voice call again, a bit more urgent this time.

"Gabriel!"

Gabriel and Mohinder jumped apart instantly at the sound of the front door being slammed shut.

"Is that?" Mohinder asked, breathlessly. Gabriel pushed him back gently.

"Yeah," he answered. He went to bedroom door just as there was a sharp knock on it.

"Gabriel?" The voice called to him from the other side.

"Oh hey, Claire…" He replied nervously through the closed door. He glanced at Mohinder, who nodded his consent for him to open it.

Gabriel quickly straightened his clothes and waited as Mohinder tucked his shirt back in his pants. Meanwhile Gabriel smoothed down his tousled hair in an effort to make himself look more presentable.  
"Can I come in?" she asked. Gabriel went to the door, opening it.

"Oh hell! Look at you," she said as she stepped in, "I can't believe my asshole uncle-" Claire paused in the middle of her tirade as she realized that Gabriel wasn't alone.

She stood there, mouth opened into an O of shock, red instantly coloring her features.

Claire's gaze came to rest on Mohinder, who was standing there in the middle of Gabriel's bedroom looking quite ill at ease.

She turned from one flustered face to the other and mentally kicked herself in the ass.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," she said quickly, backing up towards the door, "I'll go."

"No, it's okay," Mohinder said abruptly, "I was just leaving actually."

Gabriel turned to him, but Mohinder wasn't looking at him. He was looking at Claire, either not noticing or unwilling to see the flash of pain and disappointment in Gabriel's eyes.

Claire went to speak, but Mohinder pushed past her, going for the door. Gabriel and Claire exchanged a look before Gabriel went after Mohinder, following him. He caught up to him by the front door. Gabriel took hold of Mohinder's arm and pulled the other man towards him.

"Mohinder…wait," he started.

Mohinder turned around.

"I need to go- I need a chance to think about this, us."

Gabriel's large, dark eyes searched his own.

"I'm sorry," he tried to explain.

Mohinder reached up and cupped the Gabriel's chin in hand. He sighed deeply before he leaned across the space between them and planted his lips against Gabriel's own.

The gesture was soft and very nearly chaste if not for the gentle firmness in that kiss. The feeling of promise behind it. Gabriel reached for him but Mohinder was already pulling away.

"We both just need a chance to think everything over, okay?"

Gabriel found the words he wanted to say escape him. He simply nodded his answer.

Mohinder gave him a sad smile in response before turning and leaving.

Gabriel stood by the closed door for a long moment before he felt the presence of someone else in the room with him. When he turned around, Claire was standing there in the middle of the living room.

Claire was watching him nervously, obviously upset over having interrupted them.

"I'm really sorry," she told him sincerely.

"No, it's okay. Don't be sorry," he told her.

Claire came towards him. The worried look on her face gave way to absolute horror as she got a better look at the cuts and bruises on his face.

"You should go to the infirmary, Gabe. Have you seen your face?"

Gabriel grimaced. "I've seen it," he told her.

Claire was silent for a moment. She turned back towards the direction that Mohinder had headed off.

"Shit. I am so sorry I fucked that up!"

"No, it's probably a good thing," Gabriel told her, giving himself a chance to think things over.

Maybe it was. As much as he had wanted Mohinder, he was worried that perhaps he had only further complicated things between them. Gabriel did his best to push away the nagging doubts that plagued him for the time being. There was no sense in dwelling on it. He knew he would have plenty of time for that later.

Gabriel went into the kitchen to get a drink from the refrigerator. Claire followed him, observing as he bent down to reach inside and gritted his teeth at the sharp pain that blossomed across his left side.

"You're hurt!" she exclaimed.

He looked back over his shoulder.

"Your uncle's a good shot," Gabriel told her, trying to keep his voice light as he straightened his back.

Claire wasn't buying it; she looked equal parts concerned and frustrated.

"You really need to take care of yourself, Gabriel."

Gabriel handed her a can.

She thanked him while shaking her head at him.

"Look, it's fine. I got worse during training. It's nothing I can't handle."

Claire went to open her mouth to say more but Gabriel cut her off.

"Really. I am okay. I just need to take some aspirin and go to bed."

"Alone?" Claire asked, eyebrow raised.

"That wasn't what … you thought it was," Gabriel finished lamely.

"Oh yeah?" Claire countered, "What was it then?"

"It's private," Gabriel told her, hoping she would get the point and back off.

Gabriel should have known better. Claire didn't 'back off' from anything, ever.

"Gabriel…"

Gabriel whirled around to face her.

"I don't need a lecture!"

There was a moment of pause for each of them.

Claire took a deep breath as she collected her thoughts.

"I wasn't going to lecture. It's just… it's what happened today."

"I know. I'm sorry I yelled."

"No," Claire stopped then, "You're right. I was sticking my two cents where it doesn't belong. I am the one who should apologize."

"Don't…honestly."

Gabriel studied the expression on her face. He knew her well enough to know that she had something on her mind. She wasn't one to mince words. Gabriel knew that much about her.

"What's wrong Claire? You came here for a reason, didn't you?"

Claire wanted to warn him of the very real possibility that Mohinder might now be the man assigned to put him down should the need arise. Claire was terrified of the prospect that such a thing could occur now that she had witnessed first hand Sylar's return back in New York. Claire was smart enough to realize that did not bode well for man before her, the man she now thought of as a close friend. She not only worried for him but for the man who had just left the apartment as well. What would having to kill Gabriel do to Mohinder, a man who she knew already had enough pain and agony to last a lifetime. If her suspicions where true, then why had Mohinder been here with Gabriel now and in such a obvious manner? He must, therefore, care for Gabriel, more then even she had realized. If she was this conflicted, she could not imagine the type of pain the other man must be feeling.

"No, just wanted to make sure you were okay," she answered, choosing her words carefully.

"I'm fine," he told her, not at all convinced that was the sole purpose of her visit.

"You know what, I should go," she said rather abruptly as she started to back up towards the door.

Gabriel just stared at her, still trying to figure out the reason for her strange behavior.

"Where are you going? Stay awhile…I'll order us a pizza."

"I really should go… I just… wanted to see that you were okay."

"Claire?"

Yet, she was already at the door. She had to get away, get out of that apartment and sort through the emotions that plagued her now. Gabriel just stared after her. He knew something was wrong. Claire's behavior unnerved him.

"It's nothing. Will talk, later," she reassured as she all but ran from him.

Gabriel did nothing but watch as she hurried away. Something was wrong, very wrong. Gabriel felt a cold chill creep across his skin. Something was definitely up and he needed to know what that something was.

After Claire left, Gabriel sat down at the kitchen table with his soda. He propped his head in his hands and sat there for the longest time. He had no idea what to do now. His thoughts were so tangled, distorted. There had to be a way for him to make things right, somehow. He got up and got a small notepad and a pen from a kitchen drawer. Gabriel sat back down and took a deep breath. He was hesitant, knowing that this one power he had, he had been especially warned against using unless under company order. Yet, he had to know.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Gabriel found himself staring down at a crude drawing in front of him. It took him a moment to register what it was he was looking at, and when he did Gabriel could only gape at it in shock. He was torn between ripping it up and throwing it away, and simply stared at the horrifying thing he had drawn in the hopes that perhaps he could make some sense out of it.

Gabriel had known he could draw the future, and this, this before him was a future that he knew he would give his very life to prevent from becoming a reality. He only hoped it was in his power to do so.

The next morning found Gabriel, Mohinder, Peter, and Claire in a conference room, called together for yet another 'emergency' meeting. The word had spread regarding Peter and Gabriel's fight; the consensus was that Bennett was good and pissed. They all sat there expectantly, waiting for him to arrive.

The tension in the room was almost stifling. Claire looked from one sullen face to the other and mentally wished she were somewhere else.

The thought of having to go to Houston with these three, two of them ready to kill each other and the third unwittingly caught between them was enough to make her wish she had gone to college to be a marine biologist like she had dreamed of as a child.

Mohinder, for his part, looked sick to his stomach. He was obviously just as uncomfortable with the tension as everyone else. Claire made sure to keep an eye on Peter. She studied her uncle's expression as his eyes seemed to search between both Gabriel and Mohinder. He looked as if he were putting together some sort of intricate puzzle. Claire watched as his brows knitted together and then, as understanding filled him, she watched as the initial look of confusion gave way to anger. An anger that started to grow and build in him, coloring his face red with fury.

Claire had no doubt what it was that Gabriel and Mohinder were thinking about that got Peter so worked up. It was probably what she had interrupted when she had gone to check in on Gabriel. Peter's fists started to curl - he was shaking now,holding it in.

Claire reached over and touched his arm, shaking her head a little and trying to warn him with her eyes.

Mohinder made the mistake of looking over at him. Peter glared, and despite Claire's silent plea for him to restrain himself, he went to speak. Claire was more than grateful when her father interrupted them by walking into the room. "Good morning," he said briskly.

Everyone mumbled a hello in response. He took in one tense face after the other before he settled his stare on a particular person. Bennett's eyes rested on Peter.

"Is their problem, Petrelli?"

Peter wasn't looking at him. He was now glaring at Gabriel, who simply glared back. "Peter!" Peter turned towards Bennett.

"No, no problem," he grumbled. Bennett leaned across the table, hands splayed before him as he turned his gaze to each and every one of them.

"Actually, we _do_ have a problem – several in fact, far more pressing than any of the bullshit going on in this room. Do I make myself clear?"

Everyone started to shift uncomfortably in their seats.

Mohinder looked away.

"We have our Houston problem, not too mention another dozen or so cropping up, and the last thing this agency needs is a lot of in-fighting over whose sleeping with whom. Does everyone get me on that?"

Peter threw Bennett a quick dirty look before he turned away giving a huff.

"And you," Bennett said, turning heated eyes back on Peter.

"You broke a rule yesterday, didn't you?"

Peter squirmed.

He knew what Bennett was driving at.

"Next time you fight a man, have the balls to take a punch like one."

Peter colored bright red. "Excuse me?" he sputtered, embarrassed.

"I am not here to repeat myself," Bennett continued, "Here is the thing – I've got too much going on and not enough warm bodies. Frankly, I am getting sick and tired of the ones that I do have, who having nothing better to do than concern themselves with a lot of B.S."

He looked from each solemn face to the other before continuing.

"So here is the thing people: Peter and Claire, you will be taking on the Houston situation. Mohinder and Gabriel, you two are reassigned to a case out in Phoenix."

"What? You cannot be serious," Peter started, "I didn't come all this way…"

"For what?" Bennett replied, cutting him off, "To do the job we trained you to do?"

Peter slammed his fists hard onto the conference table. He rose and threw his chair into it. He practically burned a hole in Gabriel before he stormed out of the room, but not before he slammed the door behind him hard enough to rattle the frame.

Claire groaned and pushed back on her seat. Mohinder held up a hand, stopping her. "Let me talk to him," he said. Claire gave him a look.

"Please," he added. He turned towards Bennett who nodded.

"Go ahead," he said. Mohinder got up and hurried after Peter. Mohinder headed out of the room, spotting Peter who was stalking away. Mohinder sighed loudly and started after him. Peter was in such a blind rage that he didn't stop when Mohinder called his name. Mohinder chased him down the long hallway. When he finally caught up to the other man, he took hold of the of his arm and spun Peter around towards him.

"Hey, would you slow down a second?"

"Don't touch me!"

Mohinder was shocked. Peter yanked his arm back.

"Do you think I wanted to sit in there for one more goddamn second and listen to his thoughts, huh? Listen to how you two nearly fucked! How you would have if Claire didn't interrupt and ruin your fun!"

"I don't have to answer to you," Mohinder replied hastily, shocked by the absolute venom in Peter voice.

"If you want to stand there and hurl accusations at me…go ahead, but I won't stand here and take it."

"You can't go," Peter interrupted.

He pulled Mohinder towards him, forcing the other man to make eye contact with him.

"I do, I need to go," Mohinder told him.

Mohinder fought to keep his tone calm but inside he was keyed up and apprehensive. Mohinder wasn't entirely sure if this was the right thing to do. All he knew was that the time had come that he at last confronted the one person who had held back so much of his life. He was sick and tired of running from his past. The time had come to own up to it.

"You don't have to do anything," Peter protested.

"This time I do," Mohinder told him.

"You can't trust him, Mohinder – he's not, not stable, and with you – you of all people, it's too dangerous."

"I am going Peter, accept it and let go of my arm."

Each man locked and held the stare of the other, unwilling to back down. Finally, Peter sighed loudly and released his arm.

Mohinder stumbled back a bit.

"Thank you."

"I can't believe I am just going let this happen," Peter grumbled under his breath.

"You don't get a say in this!" Mohinder shouted, suddenly furious. "When are you going to realize I can lead my own life?"

Peter just stood there, his eyes flashing, angry and hurt.

Mohinder softened a bit at the heartbroken expression on his face.

"Why can't you just let go?"

"Because I love you, goddamn it! Do you think I can just flick a switch somewhere and turn that off? I can't…I have tried and I can't," Peter fired back.

"You have to."

Peter rolled his eyes. "You are a fine one to stand there all self-righteous and give me advice, Mohinder. I am not the one who spent the last four years clinging to a one night stand."

Mohinder sighed reluctantly, knowing in his heart that Peter was right. He supposed he was the last person in the world to give anyone a lecture on 'letting go.' Yet, he needed Peter to understand that what they had once had was in the past now. Mohinder knew, if he knew nothing else, that he and Peter were over. In fact, they had never really started. It was time for them both to move on.

"You're right. But, I need to do this, Peter. I have to." Mohinder insisted.

Peter only turned away from him, shaking his head as he did so as if to indicate that Mohinder was speaking nonsense. Mohinder was desperate. He had to get through to Peter, someway, somehow. He wanted things to be okay between them. He owed Peter so much, but not his heart. Mohinder would have given him anything, anything but that.

"Do you understand? I never meant for this, any of it. I'm so sorry."

Peter turned back to face Mohinder. All Peter could feel was the frustration curling in his gut. He wanted to hit Mohinder. It was a feeling that unnerved him, but even still, how could Mohinder be so blind? Why was he not the least bit fearful over what could happen being alone with that man?

"You know the reason you survived New York?" He asked, his tone strangely flat and emotionless.

Mohinder made a face. He shook his head, clearly annoyed. He was done talking in circles and not getting anywhere with Peter. He didn't have it in him to keep going on and on with this.

"I am sick of trying Peter. None of this is doing us a world of good." Mohinder made a move to leave.

Peter stepped in front of him and took hold of both of his arms.

"Answer the question, Mohinder." Peter insisted.

Mohinder rolled his eyes.

"Gabriel saved my life."

He answered, "Are you happy now?"

Peter knew he had to get through to him, make him understand the danger he faced. Peter suddenly shoved Mohinder up against the wall. Mohinder was furious; he started to push back, but Peter slammed him back once more, harder then before.

"No," Peter insisted, "Sylar did, and he nearly killed Claire in the process."

Peter watched as Mohinder blanched visibly. He looked sick to his stomach as he searched Peter's eyes for the truth.

"I don't believe you," he protested miserably.

"Yes, you do," Peter said carefully, seeing through his façade.

"This is low even for you Peter," Mohinder hissed, "Let me go."

"Ask her?"

"Stop it - just…"

"Randy wasn't terminated because of what he did, but because Claire protected Gabriel. Claire covered for him."

"You're lying!"

"You know what I am saying is the truth and you know as well as I do that all I have to do is tell Bennett and he's a dead man…"

The words cut Mohinder to the core.

Mohinder lost the little control he possessed then. He grabbed hold of Peter by the collar of his shirt and threw the other man off him as hard as he could.

"Shut up!" he nearly screamed. His whole body felt too warm. He could feel the fear and the anger coursing through him. It made his whole body shake. The fear coupled with the anger he felt made him feel as if his heart was about to come apart in his chest.

Mohinder flew back at Peter. He slammed Peter as hard as he could against the opposite wall.

Peter seemed shocked by this outburst. He simply went limp in Mohinder's grasp.

He watched as Mohinder shook in front of him. Those limpid brown eyes of his were rimmed with unshed tears, his mouth a thin line of pain. He spat through his teeth, carefully enunciating every word.

"Do you hear me? You say even a word and we are through- I will kill you myself."

Peter's eyes narrowed.

"I don't believe you."

Mohinder slammed him once more before he stepped back. His eyes slanted, angry.

"I don't care what you believe," Mohinder warned, "It's the truth."

"You are going to get yourself killed, Mohinder."

"Just drop it Peter, I mean it," Mohinder hissed before he turned and started to walk away, only wanting to put as much distance between himself and Peter as possible.

Mohinder was tired of the past keeping him prisoner. It was time he put this all behind him and started his life anew. He pushed aside Peter's warnings, determined to face the truth of himself and Gabriel for the first time in four years.

"You will wish you listened to me!" Peter shouted to his retreating back. Mohinder ignored him. He was done with apprehension.

Mohinder knew the time had come for him to at last live in the present. He was ready.

After Mohinder had failed to come back with Peter, Gabriel had agreed to go and get something to eat with Claire. Neither of them could stand the unease and tension that sitting around with a thoroughly pissed off Bennett. They had left as soon as they could, going to Claire's favorite diner for what she assured him was much needed 'comfort' food.

Gabriel just sat there in the corner booth Claire had chosen in near silence, playing with rim of his coffee mug. Claire sipped at her milkshake while hungrily attacking a plate of French fries.

"Want one?"

she asked, pushing the plate across the table towards him. He hadn't even touched the turkey sandwich he had ordered. He simply pushed it aside when it arrived and then continued to eye it with a small glint of distaste. Gabriel looked up from his coffee, blowing into the steaming mug.

He shook his head.

"No thanks," he declined politely.

Claire knew something was bothering him. In fact, he had been especially quiet throughout the entire conference. Now that she had a chance to think about it, he hadn't said two words since they had left the company to get lunch.

"What is it? Are you going miss me or something?" Claire kidded in an effort to get him talking.

The sad, hopeless look on her friend's bruised and desperate face worried her.

"It's nothing."

"You're a horrible liar," Claire told him, "Now out with it."

"Claire -"

"Is it Peter? Because really just…"

"I don't want to be alone with him," Gabriel interrupted.

Claire was surprised by the sudden outburst. Gabriel sighed deeply before lowering his head down towards the table. He seemed just as surprised as her by the words he had uttered.

Gabriel hadn't meant to confide his troubled thoughts to her, but now they were out and there was no taking them back.

Claire leaned back against the vinyl seat and waited for him to continue.

"What if – what…something bad," Gabriel started, the words getting caught in his throat.

"Nothing bad is going to happen," Claire reassured as she slid her hand across the table, covered his clenched fist warmly.

Gabriel took a deep breath. He squeezed her hand before he slid his own away.

He chewed his lip for a moment as if weighing a decision. Claire waited.

Gabriel reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He carefully unfolded it, smoothing down the wrinkles, before he slid it over the table top towards Claire.

Claire leaned over. She took it in hand, held up the crumbled paper, and studied it in the light.

It was a simple, crude drawing done in black pen. There was what looked to be the body of a person, a man, and on closer inspection she realized who it was meant to be. Mohinder. It was Mohinder, and he was laying in a pool of blood. In the foreground of the drawing, hovering in shade in the background, was a darkened figure clothed in shadows. The figure was holding a smoking gun, one that stretched towards Mohinder's prone, seemingly lifeless body.

Claire looked up, and the horror on her face mirrored the fear Gabriel had carried around since he had drawn it.

There was something hesitant in her expression, as if she had something to say but wasn't quite sure how she should word it.

"That doesn't have to mean anything."

"It means someone shoots Mohinder and I don't help him, I – I try to kill him…"

Claire peered at him puzzled.

"How in the hell could you know that?"

Gabriel swallowed hard, "Look at it again, Claire."

Claire leaned down and studied the drawing once more. It took her a moment but then she noticed it, the beginnings of a precise incision straight across Mohinder's throat – a quite neat and deadly looking wound.

"You don't know that you are the one…"

"I don't know I'm not either," Gabriel whispered, cutting her off.

"You need to go," Claire answered quickly.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, but…think about it, Gabriel? What if you need to be there, huh? What if it is you and only you that has the power to change this? Save him."

Gabriel looked thoughtful. He hadn't quite thought of the situation like that.

"I almost lost him in New York."

"Almost," Claire reassured him.

She squeezed his hand, smiled.

"You saved his life and if need be you'll do it again."

Gabriel was quiet for moment as he looked of to the side. When he spoke again there was hoarseness in his voice; it sounded scratchy, pained.

"You know it wasn't me, Claire," a hard swallow, "it was _him _and I can feel him in there, in me – and he's waiting, he's waiting for me to let down my guard. I don't know if I can control him."

Claire patted his hand gently. She tried to keep her words light but she couldn't stop the feeling of apprehension from crawling across her skin at those words.

"You have to try, Gabriel. Maybe this is your chance. The start you need to finally put everything behind you. You and Mohinder…" Claire paused. "You love him don't you?"

Gabriel nodded. There was no point in denying it.

"Then you have to go," Claire urged, "You both do."

Gabriel knew she was right. He had to go, if only to protect Mohinder from what he was fearful might very well turn out to be himself.

The first hour of their trip to Arizona had passed in relative silence. After awhile, Gabriel decided a break was in order. He could use the coffee, not to mention a break from the stifling tension between him and Mohinder. They had barely spoken two words to one another since leaving the company. It was driving Gabriel insane.

Mohinder had simply nodded at the suggestion. He pulled the rental into the first gas station they came across and turned off the engine, offering to go get the drinks.

Gabriel watched him as he went into the store. Mohinder looked as if all the weight in the world rested between his shoulder. Gabriel sighed and went to the glove box for the map. He might as well make himself useful while he waited.

When Mohinder came out of the gas station carrying two hot drinks, he found Gabriel perched over the hood, studying the map in front of him. He nudged Gabriel's hand with his drink.

"It'll be much quicker if we cut through Nevada a bit," Gabriel said as he pulled back. He thanked Mohinder for his coffee while Mohinder leaned over his shoulder to study the line his finger made.

"Will we be cutting through Vegas?" Gabriel nodded as he started to fold up the map. "Yeah, should take us about seven hours to get there."

"Now, I can see why we had to drive," Mohinder answered with a smirk.

"We would have spent just as much time at the airport."

Gabriel looked over at him, smiling at him.

There was something off about the expression on Mohinder's face, as if something were bothering him. Gabriel had a good idea as to what it was but he didn't want to make things even more uncomfortable than they already were.

He tried to keep his voice light when he spoke again.

"I can drive if you like," he offered.

"No, I like driving, it's quite alright."

Gabriel nodded as he tucked the map under his arm. He took a welcomed sip of his coffee.

"Okay then, let's get going shall we?" Mohinder nodded.

He went around the side of the car and got in. Gabriel hesitated for a second before going to the passenger side and opening the door. They got back on the road. The silence, the unspoken between them, was clearly getting to them both.

Gabriel sighed and shifted a bit in his seat. He let out a groan as sharp pain gripped him across the side of his bruised ribs for a moment. He fished around in his jacket pocket for some pain medicine, popping the top. He silently cursed Peter and his super-strength. Mohinder glanced over at him, concerned.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" he asked. Gabriel looked over at him and slid the bottle back into his pocket. He shook his head.

"No, I'm good," he lied, "Just a little stiff."

"I'm sorry about…"

"Don't apologize for him," Gabriel told him firmly.

"He wasn't the only one who started that fight. I was there, and truthfully I wanted to hit him every bit as much as he wanted to hit me."

There was a small, teasing smile on Mohinder's lips as he looked over at his companion. "I somehow doubt that," he chided. There was another pause then.

"Why didn't you go with him?"

Mohinder snuck a look over in Gabriel direction.

"I didn't have a choice," he answered flatly.

"You always have a choice."

"No, you don't," Mohinder told him. There was something in his tone that made it clear to Gabriel that Mohinder was not in the mood to discuss the situation.

It was a side of Mohinder that he was fast becoming aware of: that certain look, that tone that made it quite clear that pushing him would only meet the other person with an argument, one they weren't likely to win.

Gabriel shut up and busied himself sipping at his coffee and willing the pain medication he had taken to work. He was tired and he was more than a little worried over what the picture in his back pocket meant. He stared out the window at the fast-moving scenery that whizzed past them, concentrateing on billboards, willing to do anything other than dwell.

There was silence for another mile a half before Mohinder spoke. "The truth is, I thought," there was a pause, heavy with meaning, "That this would be good for both of us."

He kept his eyes on the road. There was something so certain about his expression that Gabriel could do nothing but sit there completely still and listen to him.

He nodded.

"I hope so."

Mohinder kept his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road.

There was quiet then, just the sound of them as they shared breathing in the small, confined space between them.

Gabriel coughed and shifted in his seat. He reached over and flipped on the radio.

"Well how about some music then?" he asked, "I am kind of partial to oldies music, you?"

Mohinder found he couldn't speak. Gabriel didn't seem to notice the way his knuckles had turned white from gripping the steering wheel much too tightly, nor did he seem to notice the pained and stricken look that crept across his face at those words.

"That's fine," he managed to mumble.

Gabriel turned up the music and leaned back in his seat.

Together they set out on the road ahead, each of them full of worry and doubt for the unknown future before them.


	16. The Greater Good

Summary: Gabriel and Mohinder travel to Phoenix to meet a young woman with a deadly ability which leads to a terrible secret from Gabriel and Mohinder's past being revealed.

Rated R for language, m/m sexuality, angst and mentions of non con.

AN: I don't know why the hell these chapters keep getting longer and longer but this one almost totaled out at 13 pages and 7,000 words. I think the next one should be closer to 5,000. I apologize in advance for any problems you may have with your eyesight as a result. :) Thanks for reading!

As always, huge thanks to my lovely beta Motsureru

XXXX

Regina wasn't sure what day it was, only the fact that it was daytime. That much she could tell from the blinding sunlight that streamed in through the open windows of her room.

It was the only thing that she knew for certain, besides the fact that she didn't want to be here. Regina sat now by the window in her room, mindlessly watching as people milled around outside the hospital grounds, basking in the warm sun.

It was impossible for her to know the day of the week; maybe it was Monday, or had it been Monday yesterday? She could no longer remember. Regina closed her eyes and tried to recall, but the effort only made her feel sleepy. Her eyes seemed to open and close without her permission. It seemed as if she had only woken moments before. The days and weeks all blurred together, hazy and unfocused. She closed her eyes. Leaning against the window, the tears came and she could barely feel them. She could barely feel anything, just the warmth of the sun from the window panes as she pressed her face against them and tried to remember.

Regina hadn't meant for any of this to happen. She had definitely not meant to get home so late; staying out past her curfew wasn't something she did very often. Unlike previous times, this time she had a good excuse. At least, she had assumed it was a good one. Really, was she expected to walk five miles home in 30 degree weather because her best friend Lindsey was being selfish as usual?

Regina wished she had stayed home with a good book, rather than trail after her best friend like she had been doing since they were kids. They were no longer kids, and Regina had been getting sick and tired of Lindsey's bossy behavior lately. That night had been the last straw.

They were at Lindsey's boyfriend's house, and Regina spent most of the night playing video games by herself while Lindsey and the boyfriend, Greg, went at it on the couch behind her. Regina had to keep reminding her that it was getting late and that she had to get home, which only made Lindsey act like even more of a bitch.

"Will you just fucking relax!" Lindsey screamed at her, which prompted Regina to pick up her coat and bag and consider the long, cold walk home a viable alternative.

Regina slammed her way out of the house, and as she started walking up the street towards home, shaking with anger and near tears, she seriously contemplated calling her mother and asking her to come get her. But, she knew her mother would only press for details. Details, Regina wasn't exactly eager to give her knowing that her mother would be furious if she found out she had been at a boy's house- a boy's house with no parents present.

Lindsey followed after her and promised to drive her home. Regina was angry and ready to have it out with her from the moment she got in the car.

They fought the entire way back to Regina's house

"You are so selfish," Regina yelled at her. She threw herself out of her friend's car the moment they pulled into her driveway. She was so eager to get away from Lindsey that she didn't even wait for the car to make a full stop.

"I can't believe we're friends!" Regina continued as she slamed the door behind her.

Regina stomped up the walk to her house, in a blind fury as she rummaged around her purse for her house keys.

The front door swung open, and Regina groaned. In front of her, arms crossed over her breasts and wearing a far from happy expression, was her mother.

"You're late."

Regina nodded and slipped past her and into the house.

"So, do have anything to say for yourself, young lady?"

Regina knew that arguing wasn't going to get her anywhere, so she simply said nothing and tried to make it up the stairs to her room. Her mother had other ideas, she was not going to let it go. Before Regina knew it they were screaming at one another, waking the whole house in the process. Her father, thoroughly pissed off, thus proceeded to ground her for an entire month. Regina fled from them, screaming hysterical threats down from the second floor landing.

"I hate you people! I hate you all. I wish you were all dead!"

Regina ran to her room, making sure to slam her bedroom door as hard as she could.

She flung herself onto her bed, sobbing herself into a fitful sleep.

The next morning came as always, bringing with it the bright sun from her open window. When Regina woke up, she realized two things: one, she was still in yesterday's clothes, and two, she had a pounding headache that made her feel as if her head might split open. She figured it was from all the screaming and crying she had done the night before.

The house was quiet, especially for a Saturday morning. No siblings running around screaming, no TV blaring, no mom yelling at them to calm down. Regina got up, groaning as memories of that awful fight filled her with dread for another confrontation. She tip toed out of her room, not wanting to attract anyone's attention, only wanting to use the bathroom as quickly and as quietly as possible so she could get back to hiding under her covers for the rest of the day. It wasn't until she opened up the bathroom door and found her mother sprawled across the rug in the middle of the room, motionless and still, that she realized why the house had been so quiet.

XXXX

The drive to Phoenix took Gabriel and Mohinder longer than either of them expected, around nine hours instead of the promised eight. The traffic heading into Vegas was a nightmare.

Those hours were made worse by the strained atmosphere between the two men. It was a drive filled with pregnant silences and sideways glances full of meaning. Gabriel had spent the long hours pondering not only the drawing in his back pocket, but also torturing himself with memories of the kisses he had shared with Mohinder back at his apartment. It took all his will power just to keep his hands to himself. Gabriel wanted nothing more than to take the other man in his arms and blot out the rest of the world. Mohinder, for his part, couldn't stop replaying the argument he had with Peter back at the company. The fiery words exchanged echoed in his mind and he was filled with a sick sense of dread. Mohinder couldn't quite shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen. He didn't want to doubt Gabriel, he wanted nothing more than to believe Sylar no longer existed, and that in his place had been left a kind, decent man. One he was starting to have very deep feelings for. Now he had to contend with the fact that Sylar was indeed still around, ready to…what? What the hell was Sylar in there waiting to do?

Mohinder couldn't fathom why Sylar had shown up only to save his life. Why, of all things, would saving Mohinder bring back from a dormant state the man who had set out to lay waste to Mohinder's life in the first place? These questions plagued Mohinder. He wasn't sure how to broach the subject with Gabriel. Was he even aware of what had happened in New York?

They got out at the first gas station they spotted. Gabriel busied himself filling the tank with gas, while Mohinder went inside to inquire about modestly priced hotels in the area. Mohinder came out a few minutes later to let him know that he had found one only another two miles or so up the road. Gabriel was relived. It would be good to get a bit of rest, take a nice hot welcomed shower, and grab something to eat.

"I figure we could take the evening to discuss the next step in regards to the assignment," Mohinder mentioned casually as he leaned against the side of the car while Gabriel finished filling up the gas tank. Gabriel turned to acknowledge the other man as he finished filling up. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said, keeping his voice even.

"I just spoke with the clerk inside. There is hotel just down the road. I'll get us our rooms and we can each get a few hours rest before we meet up again."

The use of the words 'rooms' was not lost on Gabriel. He had not known what to expect, and he certainly may have once or twice allowed himself to wonder if they might be sharing a room on this trip. But the truth was that Mohinder needed time, and if Gabriel was to be honest, maybe he did as well.

Gabriel wanted for things to work out between them. It was probably best for all concerned if they took things slowly. Gabriel nodded his agreement.

"That sounds like a good idea." He watched as Mohinder got back in the car. His heart stuck in his throat as always. God, sometimes Mohinder was too good-looking. He didn't know what it was about that man, but he found it near impossible not to stare.

XXXX

Later on, after they had both rested, Mohinder came down from his room to meet Gabriel in the front lobby. When the elevators opened, he found Gabriel sitting rather nervously in a large over-stuffed chair. Mohinder felt the air trap in his lungs at the sight of him. Gabriel wore carefully pressed slacks and a sports jacket, his hair spiked up a bit from its careful usual part. He looked so much like someone else that Mohinder fought the urge to turn away and go back to his room before he was noticed.

Yet, as Gabriel looked up and met Mohinder's hesitant expression, his face broke into a warm grin that was all Gabriel. Mohinder's apprehension melted away. He crossed the room as Gabriel stood and made his way over to Mohinder.

"You look really nice," Mohinder offered. Gabriel blushed at the compliment. If only Mohinder had known the absolute agony he had gone through over the last forty five minutes trying to decide if he could make himself look even halfway decent. Mohinder, for his part, looked flawlessly put together, coupled with that bright, whiter than white smile of his and the smell of his cologne. The heady mix of spice and musk instantly went through Gabriel, making his pants tighter than he would like. He smiled and tried to remain cool.

"You look really good, too," he said.

Mohinder returned his grin.

"Is the hotel restaurant alright?" Mohinder asked.

Gabriel, who hadn't eaten anywhere fancier than a roadside diner for as long as he could remember, could have cared less what the place looked like or where it was. He agreed to Mohinder's suggestion regarding restaurant choices immediately, but nevertheless found the restaurant to be more than a little overwhelming.

The place was,for one, softly lit with candles and flowers on the tables. The atmosphere seemed to take Mohinder back as well; he seemed every bit as suprised as Gabriel was about the decor. The look on his face was priceless as he turned to Gabriel, but he quickly shrugged it off. Gabriel was determined not to act as if this was a date, though the atmosphere seemed to have other ideas. Mohinder had, however made it quite clear that they were here only to discuss the job at hand, nothing more.

Despite each of their initial misgivings over the romantic setting, Gabriel thought dinner went rather well. They had talked a bit about the assignment, something that Mohinder had seemed reluctant to discuss earlier for reasons still unclear to Gabriel, but he quickly learned but more than he knew before. Gabriel knew they had come to Phoenix to meet with a troubled and somewhat emotionally unstable young woman who had a potentially deadly ability. Gabriel got the feeling that perhaps Mohinder was being vague on purpose. He wanted to question him further, but could see that the subject was troubling Mohinder, so he backed off a bit and let Mohinder set the direction of their conversation. They had wine with dinner, which Gabriel enjoyed, not having really remembered drinking it before. Mohinder impressed him with his class and elegance. Mohinder had no trouble ordering the wine or pointing out different things to try from the menu. Gabriel only nodded at his suggestions, and when his coq au vin came to the table, he was pleasantly surprised to learn it was just chicken in a wine sauce. Mohinder was careful to avoid any topics that would put a strain on the pleasantness of their dinner. When the bill came, Mohinder objected over Gabriel's protests and slid a company credit card over. "Let them foot the bill," he told him, to which Gabriel agreed. After dinner the uncomfortable silence returned as they took the elevator back to their rooms. Outside the door, the awkwardness continued.

"Well, we have a busy day tomorrow," Mohinder told him, keeping his tone mild.

"I will meet you downstairs at eight or so for breakfast."

Gabriel nodded as Mohinder handed him his keycard and then left him at the door, heading down to his own room. Gabriel stood there, watching him leave.

"Mohinder," he called, surprising himself. Mohinder paused, turning around.

"Yes?" he replied hesitantly.

Words like, "stay" and "don't" echoed in his head, but instead he found himself smiling, unsure and nervous.

"Thank you for dinner. I had a good time," he finally answered. Mohinder looked relieved as he smiled back and nodded. "You're welcome. I had a nice time too," he added.

Mohinder decided to give Gabriel the full story over breakfast. It had quickly turned into a heated discussion, one they continued on their way to their destination.

"So let me make sure I get this. The girl is fifteen, she's unknowingly killed her entire family with her mind, and now she is in some asylum being given tranquilizers to keep her calm?"

Mohinder nodded. "Yeah, that is the gist of it."

"So, where in the hell do we come in?" Mohinder looked away for a moment, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Gabriel noticed his hesitance.

It dawned on him then, and he shook his head.

"Are you serious? A kid, who's done nothing 'sides…" Mohinder turned back to him. "Who has done nothing but kill her entire family; parents, siblings even an elderly grandmother – all of them dead simply because she wished it so."

Gabriel had to look away. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

"So let me get this straight– are you saying we waltz into this hospital and put this kid down, bullet to the back of her head?"

"No, of course not," Mohinder was appalled.

"Ok, so what, then?"

"It is more complicated than that. We need to get in there and make our recommendations."

"By 'recommendations,' you mean what, exactly?"

Mohinder swallowed.

"I mean…we find out if she will benefit from the Company's help."

"Oh, I see…are they hiring? You want to go in there and see if they can use her as an assassin?"

There was no longer any sense in denying it. That was, essentially, the truth. Mohinder didn't like this anymore than Gabriel.

They pulled pulled into a large gated driveway, one that turned into a long winding road that circled the estate evetually leading to a vistors parking lot tucked back away from the facility. As they continued their drive, they took in the sight of the hospital itself looming into view. It was a huge, three-story brick building. Milling around the grounds were a lot of young adults, most of them teenagers, and they were engaged in a multitude of activities while other's in staff uniform kept careful watch over them.

Gabriel watched a few patients sitting off to the side, miserable and alone, and was suddenly saddened by the sight of them.They sat there, chins in hands, watching as the world went on without them. Gabriel was lost in his thoughts pondering what he had seen as Mohinder turned into the visitor parking lot and pulled into a space.

He gave himself and Gabriel a look once over before he double-checked that they each had their respective I.D's. Gabriel looked at his and made a face.

"I am Dr. Roger Lewis?" he asked.

"Why, what's wrong with that?" Gabriel reached across the seat and took Mohinder's ID from his hand.

"You got a cooler name," he grumbled as he handed it back. Mohinder rolled his eyes and opened the driver's side door so he could get out.

"Oh for heaven's sake," he replied as he stretched out his feet. Gabriel sighed and got out at as well. It was already warm outside, too warm. It was barely nine in the morning and already the sun was an unforgivably hot fireball, scorching everything in its path.

"All these weather changes are going to make me crazy– freezing cold in New York, California desert…"

Mohinder favored him with a dirty look.

"You sick of complaining yet?" Gabriel realized, suddenly, that he had really done nothing but complain this morning. Truth be told, he was just wound up. This assignment had him more than a little worried. He nodded, resigned.

"Yeah," Gabriel answered. Another pointed look from Mohinder. "I'm sorry," he added. Mohinder brightened a bit and reached over, rubbing his shoulder.

"You're forgiven," he answered. Gabriel nodded and started after him, readying himself as they walked into the building. There was a receptionist desk in the front entryway.

A young woman in her mid twenties sat there, chewing gum and busying herself with playing solitaire on her computer.

"Hi, I am Dr. Patel and this is my associate, Dr. Lewis. We are from Arizona State University. We are here to have a look at a patient of yours by the name of Regina Landers."

The girl looked up from her game and her eyes met with Mohinder's handsome, smiling face. She instantly blushed, clicking off the screen on the computer.

"Oh hi, uh sure. Can I just see some ID? Oh, and uh, can you please sign in here?"

She giggled nervously while tapping the clipboard in front of her with a long, lacquered fingernail. Mohinder flashed a brilliant white smile in response.

"Of course," he answered politely.

Gabriel stepped closer to the counter and took the pen, signing them in, while Mohinder fished out his forged documents and handed them to her.

As she went to make copies, Gabriel turned to Mohinder, who flashed him that same smile. Gabriel could understand the girl's flustered remarks after having been on the receiving end of such a grin.

"Easy," Mohinder whispered.

"Yeah, well, the fact that she nearly fell over just talking to you didn't seem to hurt."

"Not my fault," Mohinder shrugged.

"Right," Gabriel grumbled as the girl came back and handed them back their papers as well as temporary passes.

Once they put on their passes and started down the long hallway, Gabriel was quiet for a time. Then he spoke.

"What's it like?" he finally asked.

Mohinder threw him a look.

"What are we talking about?" Gabriel coughed, shruging as they walked.

"People looking at you like that all the time…"

Mohinder only laughed. "It's flattering usually," he answered sincerely.

Gabriel paused, turning to him. Mohinder stopped short, his shoes squeaking a bit against the polished floors.

"What?"

Gabriel shrugged."I don't know, I was expecting you to make some speech about how I am imaging things. I expected a little modesty."

Mohinder scoffed as he started walking, shaking his head as he went.

"I'm being serious," Gabriel protested as he picked up the pace, hurrying after him.

"I have had this face all my life," Mohinder told him sharply as he stopped for the moment to address Gabriel, "And truthfully, it's done more harm than good."

Gabriel went to speak, but Mohinder looked up at the door number and turned to him.

"This is the room," he said. Mohinder started towards the door.

"Let me go in," Gabriel protested, stopping Mohinder with a hand on his arm. "Besides, someone is coming over." Gabriel gestured to a tall man in a lab coat standing at the end of the hall, brows knitted questioningly before he started his way over to them. "Go talk whatever the hell language you doctors talk and I will go and talk to her."

Mohinder nodded as the doctor called out to them.

"Alright, I'll stall as long as I can," Mohinder promised.

Gabriel thanked him and went into the room.

XXXX

Gabriel slipped inside the room, carefully shutting the door behind him. He took a minute to simply observe the young girl for a moment. She sat by a large bay window, chin in hand. Her face was turned in profile, staring wistfully out the window.

"You're new," she said absently without turning to look at him.

He nodded and stepped farther into the room.

"I am," Gabriel said, coming to her side.

Regina turned in her seat slowly to acknowledge Gabriel.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Lewis," he told her, "You must be Regina."

"I don't feel like talking today," Regina answered, her fingers nervously twirling a strand of long, ash colored hair.

Gabriel noticed right away how stilted her speech was, as if each and every sentence pained her to speak.

Gabriel thought it to be an obvious side-effect from the excessive amount of tranquilizers the hospital kept her on on a twenty-four basis.

Gabriel's heart broke for her; she was only a kid. A kid now chained to a life of being overmedicated while poked and prodded at by doctors, kept away from a world that was perfectly content to carry on without her.

"Can I sit with you?"

Regina shrugged.

"Alright," she answered. Gabriel came over and pulled a hard, plastic chair up to where she sat. They sat for a long moment in shared silence. Gabriel watched her profile for a few minutes before she turned back towards him.

"I like you," she said softly, a finger still curled in her hair as her hazy, unfocused gaze struggled to keep her attention on him.

"You don't make me talk. I hate talking."

Gabriel favored her with a smile.

"We can talk or we can sit, whatever you want, Regina."

"I hate sitting. I sit all the time now."

Gabriel saw the lifelessness in her eyes. He heard it in her halted speech. This girl was dying a slow, sure death from this confined life that had been unwittingly thrust upon her. None of this was her fault, and yet here she was, being punished for it. A feeling of powerlessness overcame Gabriel. He didn't know what he could do to help her, but he was determined to make her feel for once connected to something, to someone, and not so alone. Gabriel leaned closer to her, next to her ear.

"I want you to see something, something…special. Will you let me show you?"

Regina looked thoughtful for a moment. Yet, Gabriel knew he was not mistaken the faint spark of the mischievous in those tired, red-rimmed eyes of hers. They shone to life for the first time since he had entered the room. She nodded her consent slowly.

Gabriel thought a moment, and then pointed out the window towards a potted plant sitting on the brick wall of a far off garden patio.

"Do you see the plant over there on the wall, the one with the purple flowers?"

Regina looked over at him and nodded. He gave her a small, encouraging smile.

"Okay, watch it closely, alright?"

Regina watched the plant rock back and forth before pitching over and falling to the ground, shattering into pieces and spilling dirt everywhere. Regina turned to him amazed.

"How did you…"

"I can make things happen with my mind too. You are not alone Regina. I know it feels that way, but you are not. You are a very special girl with a very special ability."

Regina just gaped at him, tears flowing freely down her pale face.

"It's not special- I killed my parents, I made the doctor – the one who was mean…I am a bad person."

Gabriel leaned forward. "No, you're not. What happened to them wasn't your fault. You don't need to be here. You can learn to control it. You never have to hurt anyone ever again."

"I don't like it here."

"Of course you don't," he said sympathetically. "No one likes to be locked up."

"That's true," she said wistfully, looking out the window, still staring at the broken plant lying there on its side.

It was then that Mohinder knocked on the door, sticking his head in.

"Excuse me, Regina- I am Dr. Patel. I need a word with Dr. Lewis."

She nodded slightly. Gabriel touched her shoulder warmly as he got up and moved past her.

"I'll be back in a moment."

Once they were out of earshot, Mohinder asked Gabriel what his opinion was.

"Well, for one, this is no life for anyone."

"I am sure you are referring to the amount of drugs…"

"I am referring to it all Mohinder," Gabriel said, his voice a heated whisper.

"The drugs, the keeping her locked up like some kind of a recluse... They are keeping this poor girl hidden away from the world and made to feel like a freak because of an ability she has no control over."

"I agree," Mohinder said, tapping the folder in hand for emphasis.

"You got the doctors to give you her case file?"

Mohinder only smirked, "People are easy once you know what to say."

"I see," Gabriel answered. "So, what are they calling her condition?"  
"Post traumatic stress disorder..."

"They think she's crazy?"

"You have to see it from the average medical professional's viewpoint, Gabriel. That girl in there thinks she killed her family with her mind. Medical science has no explanation for that, therefore, they have taken what they believe to be a terrible coincidence and only see a young woman who has cracked under the strain of it."

"So, an entire family dies of cerebral hemorrhages one night out of the blue and medical science chalks it up to coincidence?"

Mohinder nodded. Gabriel was angry.

"That's wonderful. And meanwhile that poor kid is losing her mind in here. We have to do something, Mohinder."

"I agree. I think our next step is to make some calls and give Bennett our recommendation. The company needs to have this young woman extracted from this facility as soon as possible."

"What? So she can be poked and prodded even more then she already is?"

Mohinder ran a hand across his forehead, looking weary.

"What other options do we have?" Mohinder protested. "It is either the Company or this hospital. This girl is not fit to be among the public, untreated."

" Do you hear your self? You make her sound as if she were some sort of monster. We are talking about a child here."

"Child or no child," Mohinder protested, "It is the right thing to do."  
"No, no it isn't!"

Mohinder took Gabriel by his arm. He could see the other man growing agitated.

"Will you kindly lower your voice?"  
"Fine," Gabriel snarled as he pulled his arm away.

"You do what you want."

"This is a mutual decision," Mohinder argued, "You are not thinking clearly."

"I am," Gabriel insisted, "This is wrong- you, me, that girl in there, all of it - it's all fucked and it kills me. It kills me that there isn't a goddamn thing I can do to change any of it."

"No, you can't. The past is the past. It is what you make of it, what you made of it." Mohinder's voice was suddenly cold. "Just because you were given a second chance doesn't mean the rest of the world is as fortunate."

Those words hit Gabriel like a punch to the gut. He paled, turning his gaze away from Mohinder.

"I'll meet you out in the car," Gabriel told him, his voice dropping down to a whisper.

He turned and stalked away, leaving Mohinder staring brokenly at Gabriel's retreating back. Mohinder slumped against the cinderblock walls, cupping his face in hand and groaning loudly.

XXXX

The fight continued in the car on the way back to the hotel. Mohinder was making a point to ignore Gabriel, who was still trying to get through to him.

They paused outside Mohinder's door. Mohinder sighed as he ran a hand across his forehead, fishing out his keycard from his wallet.

"I am done with this," he stated. He swiped the card through the slot, turning the handle when the light flashed green. Mohinder started to go inside, but Gabriel stopped him.

"We can't turn her over to the Company!"

"These people here are not equipped to help her," Mohinder protested. Gabriel looked away. Mohinder touched his arm.

"Gabriel, please, look at me," Mohinder said, voice softer. Gabriel moved his gaze to Mohinder's and waited.

"We have no choice; she has to go to the Company and the sooner, the better. This girl has no control over the ability."

"And what if she never gets control of it, huh?" Gabriel voice was a hesitant whisper. "Does she get the shot like everyone else who is too dangerous?"

"It won't come to that," Mohinder tried to reason.

"I want to know how you are so certain, because from what I have seen and from what I know… You have seen enough to tell me the truth: are they above killing an innocent in the name of their so-called greater good?"

"Gabriel…"

"This is wrong," Gabriel whispered to him, "Everything is just wrong." Mohinder knew that Gabriel was no longer talking about that sad, sweet young girl, but something else. Gabriel turned away from Mohinder.

Mohinder thought for only a moment before he stepped up beside him and took his hand, lacing his fingers through Gabriel's own.

"This has to happen. I know it's not ideal, but they won't give up on her, not if they can help it. They gave us both chances at new lives Gabriel."

"Why did you join the Company, Mohinder?"

Mohinder chewed his lip for a moment, unsure of what to say to that. There were so many reasons why; there wasn't just one reason in particular he could give as the reason why he had decided to join this group, decided to give them his life.

"I needed a change," Mohinder answered carefully, "I needed to change things for others– I needed for something, anything at all, to be made right."

"Did you?"

"I hope so," Mohinder whispered, squeezing Gabriel's hand all the tighter.

"Well, what options does this girl have? You know as well as I do that they are only going to to teach her how to control this ability so she can kill for them. Is that _ideal_?

Mohinder groaned loudly, releasing Gabriel hand before opening the door to his room.

Gabriel wasn't content to let the matter drop. He followed Mohinder inside and closed the door behind them. Mohinder tossed the keycard on the night stand and turned around, furious.

"I didn't invite you in," he seethed.

Gabriel marched up to him and got in his face.

"I don't care. I wasn't finished with the conversation."

Now Mohinder was even angrier. He didn't care for this self-righteous tone of Gabriel's. Who was he to act so high and mighty?

"You act as if I am doing this out of some sort sick desire to be malicious. I don't have a choice!"

Gabriel was downright angry at those words. He wasn't going to back down. He was sick and tired of everyone around him acting as if they were blameless, as if there all unwitting pawns. They had a say. They had choices.

"Fuck that!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "That's bullshit, Mohinder, and you know it! The world isn't so damn gray; it's black and white– right and wrong…"

It wasn't the thing to say. Gabriel watched as a dark shadow crawled across Mohinder's face, his expression changing from irritation to a sort of ferocity that Gabriel had only seen once before, outside that diner in Ohio. Gabriel was sure then that Mohinder was going to kill him or die trying. Gabriel went to go to him, realizing too late that he had overstepped himself.

The minute Gabriel put his hands on Mohinder, Mohinder reacted violently, suddenly shoving Gabriel as hard as he could away from him.

Gabriel stumbled back, surprised by the force with which Mohinder had pushed him. Gabriel fell back against the bed in the middle of the room, hitting the box spring with the backs of his legs. He reached out, trying to hold himself up and regain his balance as he turned to Mohinder. He went to speak, to apologize for what he had said, but it was clearly too late. Mohinder was livid, shouting at him from across the room.

"You would know, wouldn't you?! You know all about wrongs and rights…"

"Mohinder, listen, I'm sorry…I didn't mean…"

But Mohinder couldn't be deterred. He was far too angry now. His whole body shaking with that rage. The words poured out before he could rethink them, everything that had been paining him, troubling him, came rushing out now in a torrent of words. He unleashed it now, for the moment not concerned with the consequences, but needing only to have it out of himself.

"I wish you had stayed dead. I wish I could look at you just once…just once and not…" Gabriel's heart broke at those words.

"Mohinder…" It was the only word he could muster but the word was ignored. Mohinder continued to lash out at him.

"And not see him. He didn't deserve another chance. You stand there and talk to me about chances, about choices. You didn't deserve one…" Mohinder went on.

Gabriel had tried to go to him but stopped at those words, cold fear striking within him. Of everything that had happened, everything he knew, did not know, could never know, nothing had struck him as hard or as deeply as what Mohinder had just said to him.

Mohinder paused in the middle of his rant, his whole body heaving with emotion and his face contorted with the intensity of his words. The emotion inside him was now bubbling to the surface with a passion Gabriel had never seen in another person.

Gabriel slowly went to him.

He grabbed Mohinder by the wrists and pulled his body close, but Mohinder fought hard against him and tried to shove him off. Gabriel held on tight, gripping the other man hard enough to bruise him.

"Hey, calm down, okay? You're right. You're right, Mohinder."

The words were useless. Mohinder could not be contained.

"I wish I didn't want you! How could I still want you?"

The words had hardly left Mohinder's lips before Gabriel was kissing him, wanting to stop each and every fear that poured out of the man. It seemed to work.

Mohinder submitted to the kiss with a loud moan, his caresses rough as Gabriel spun him around and pushed him down gently on the plush bedspread. Mohinder only laid there for a moment before he reached up with both hands to pull Gabriel down by the lapels of his jacket. Gabriel looked down at him for only the briefest of moments,

and then he was climbing in after him, straddling the other man across his thighs. Mohinder arched up to return his kisses, groaning as he did so. The kisses were hot, desperate, angry. Teeth and lips clashed together in a fury of pent up desire and rage, the culmination of the agony and heartbreak shared between them.

Gabriel took Mohinder's hands in his own and laid them flat against the bed, pressing down, holding him there. Then he started to move his lips down Mohinder's jaw line and down towards his neck, planting small kisses and delicate bites. He gripped Mohinder's wrists even tighter now, grinding his hardness down onto his thigh and letting out a rough moan as he did so.

Gabriel was so caught up in the heat of the moment, the sensations that raced through him, that he did not realize until too late that something was terribly wrong. He pulled back and it was only then that he realized that Mohinder had stopped moving– he had gone from moving up, desperate and eager for Gabriel, to now simply laying there and doing little more than submitting. It made Gabriel pause in his ministrations. Gabriel went to speak, wanting to ask him what was wrong.

Then Gabriel heard it: the sound of a sob. He pulled away to gaze down at Mohinder, who was looking away from him, his eyes tightly closed and tears leaking down the sides of his face. "Mohinder, what is it?"

"Get off me," Mohinder whispered.

"Mohinder, tell me…"

"Get off!" Mohinder suddenly shouted at him.

He flung Gabriel back in a rage, and Gabriel nearly slid off the bed, though he quickly regained his balance. Mohinder sat up.

"What did I do?" The pain and stricken look of total confusion on Gabriel's face melted away Mohinder's anger, leaving him with only an aching sadness.

"Nothing, you didn't…"

Gabriel reached for Mohinder's hand, lifting his eyes upwards. He stumbled backwards as if he had been struck, blinking back the absolute viciousness of the words that echoed through his mind.

_You should have known better than to whore yourself to me._

Gabriel could only stare at Mohinder blindly as both the words and their frightening implication flooded over him. The memories were but a second, a flash, but they were real and clear enough that he could hear for a moment the sound of Mohinder crying and begging in the background…

"Oh god," Gabriel uttered as the realization dawned on him. He felt as if he were going to be ill. He could already feel the taste of bile rising upwards in his throat. It was as if someone had reached inside him and turned his entire world inside out. The horrified, frightened look on Mohinder's face cut him to the core. Gabriel couldn't fathom how this could be true. He needed to tell Mohinder with absolute certainty that the images in his head, that sentence being volleyed back in forth, hadn't meant anything.

"Tell me…I didn't, tell me I didn't…"

Gabriel knew he was babbling. He knew the words that he was trying to speak were only coming out garbled and wrong. Each and every one of them was becoming stuck and twisted in his throat. Mohinder just stood there, shaking in front of him, the horror in his eyes was so real, so true. Mohinder went to speak, but stopped as if he couldn't. He simply stood there now covering his face with his hands, refusing to look at him. It was then that Gabriel knew the truth of what he had done.

He had raped Mohinder.

Gabriel backed up until he was pressed flat against the wall with nowhere else to go. All of his strength failed him and he felt his legs give way. He slid down the length of the hard surface and just sat there, his expression blank, completely trapped in his own head. The look on his face coupled with the fact that he had gone completely white frightened Mohinder.

He went over to Gabriel's side, kneeling down. Mohinder took Gabriel's face in hand, trying to make him look at him.

"Gabriel…please…"

Gabriel winced at his touch, blinking as he suddenly came back to the reality of the situation. Mohinder's concerned eyes were more than he could bear.

"Why?"

"I don't know why," Mohinder managed, the sobs stuck in his throat. His memories taken him back to a night four years ago, when everything good and trusting had been ripped away from him, leaving behind the hard, bitter shell he had lived with for so long now.

Gabriel suddenly gave a violent jerk, nearly sending Mohinder off balance as he climbed to his feet. Mohinder started to stand as well, but Gabriel held up his hands, warding him off.

"Don't…" It was one word. It came out like a moan. Mohinder just stood there, unsure of what to do.

"It wasn't you. I know that. I know it wasn't you…"

"Oh god," Gabriel whimpered. "I knew, I knew something horrible…"

Mohinder started towards him again, but Gabriel was already hurrying towards the door in his haste to get away. Mohinder moved after him, trying to pull Gabriel towards him by his arm. The touch seemed to shock Gabriel out of his hysteria. He turned around and let loose a small burst of energy that sent Mohinder flying backwards. Mohinder landed on the carpet by the wall, blinking and trying to figure out what had happened. When he managed to get his gaze to focus, he saw that Gabriel was standing by the door, tears staining his face. He seemed to be trying to decide on whether he should go to Mohinder's side or flee.

"Please," Mohinder whispered, "Stay with me."

Gabriel started towards him, but stopped as he grappled once more with the images that assaulted him. Images of Mohinder beneath him, struggling, fighting, screaming at him to stop, while over and over again…

"I can't," he replied his words a broken whisper, "I have to leave. I can't. I can't stay here…" Gabriel pleaded, "I'm sorry," but the words tasted hollow, full of bitterness and regret.

It was as if he had no choice. He had to go. He had to leave


	17. Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 17

Down the Rabbit Hole

Rated R for Language and Angst

As always a big thank you to my wonderful beta Motsureru

XXX

Mohinder simply sat there for the longest time, dazed and unsure, finding himself sprawled across the carpet of his hotel room. He could only sit there while he tried desperately to make sense of what had happened. One minute, he and Gabriel had been arguing, and in the next, he was lying underneath him on the bed, fighting once more the losing battle between his heart and the painful, horrifying memories that clouded his head. The truth was that as much as there were times when he wanted the other man to know exactly what had happened, Mohinder never meant for Gabriel to find out what Sylar had done to him. It was so terrible and so painful that it had ripped apart the very fabric of his life. No matter how angry or irrational he may have allowed himself to get, Mohinder still couldn't bring himself to tell Gabriel the truth. Somewhere inside himself, even before Bennett had said anything, a part of Mohinder knew that Sylar had allowed them to take his memory so he would not have to live with the pain of that night.

Mohinder could, on some subconscious level, understand that need; he had tried to outrun that night as well, and like Gabriel, he had failed. Now it was clear that they both were prisoners of a destructive past they could not escape.

Perhaps it was the knowledge of the other man's remorse that had made it easier for him to live with his own.

Yet, what Mohinder worried about now was not only that horrified look on Gabriel's face, but also the knowledge that the memory of what had happened between them had scared the other man so badly that he had fled in terror from him.

Mohinder used the wall to push himself upwards, testing his legs to make sure nothing was broken. He was shaking violently, a combination of nerves and adrenaline

Mohinder couldn't dwell on anything else now but finding Gabriel; he couldn't let Gabriel go off alone in the state he was in. Mohinder had seen the panicked and terrified look in his eyes and he was fearful not only for Gabriel's own well being but that of anyone he may come in contact with.

Mohinder dreaded the thought that this incident might be just thing that Sylar needed to come back once more and steal control from Gabriel as he had done in New York, perhaps this time permanently.

Mohinder shook his head at such a thought, determined not to think of such a possibility, only wanting to find Gabriel and make things right between them.

Mohinder didn't waste any time as he quickly snatched his jacket off the back of a chair and raced out of the room, all the while trying frantically to reach Gabriel on his cell phone. To his disappointment and frustration, it went straight to voicemail.

Still, Mohinder wouldn't allow himself to panic. He could fix this.

"I found you in New York," Mohinder whispered to himself, "I can find you in Phoenix."

He set out to do just that.

XXX

Gabriel had left the hotel a blind wreck. He was vaguely aware of the doorman asking if something was the matter, but finding himself unable to answer the man, he had simply pushed passed him roughly. It was as if he was totally incapable of coherent thought; his head felt as if it were being pounded on from the inside out, complete with flashes, bits and pieces of memories that he knew should have been long forgotten. Yet here they were, taunting him, and each one, each and every one of these 'flashes,' bore the image of Mohinder's terrified, tear stained face. He was overwhelmed by the horror of the things he saw. The horror of what they implied filled him with an absolutely sick feeling of repulsion, one that forced him to face over and over again what had he done.

Gabriel wasn't sure where he was walking to, only that he had to walk. The only thought pushing him on was the desire to run away. He had to get away from here, but where was here? How could he even begin to run from his own thoughts?

It was an impossible escape; there was nowhere for him to go.

He knew he had killed people, murdered for selfish gains, had even known that he had been the one to end his own mother's life. Yet, this was beyond his comprehension. He could not imagine how he had done such a horrific thing. It was nearly impossible for him imagine that he had ever hurt Mohinder so viciously. That look in Mohinder's eyes back at the hotel consumed him now. How could he have missed that sadness in his eyes for what it was? A look of powerlessness, of control lost, all resulting from what he had done to Mohinder.

It seemed now as if the tiger had been unleashed from its cage, now refusing to be thwarted, to be kept under lock and key a moment longer.

"_What did you think was going to happen, Gabriel? Did you think he could ever __forgive us for what we did? Ever look at you like you weren't the one who fucked it all up in the first place…" _

Gabriel stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. A chill raced up his spine at those words as he let the absolute bitterness of the voice inside his head wash over him.

He pressed the palms of his hands against his ears in a vain attempt to stop that slow, mocking voice from filling his head with more of the truth than he had ever wanted to know.

"_Give it up Gabriel. You are nothing without me. If you hadn't fallen for him_,_ hadn't weakened yourself back in Montana...We wouldn't be in this mess. Did you honestly believe you could change?" _

"Shut up," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes against a barrage of thoughts, images that wouldn't stop, no matter how hard he willed them away.

_Did you think he loved you? Could ever love someone…" _

That voice threatened to worm itself inside of Gabriel, to twist the last bit of goodness inside him into something dark and…

"I said shut up!"

Two teenage girls walking by stopped at his outburst and gaped at him for a moment, unsure if the strange man was shouting at them.

They quickly moved on when he turned to face them, tears streaming down his face, his eyes blank and terrified.

He closed his eyes as they passed by, trying to breathe and feeling momentarily relieved that the voice was gone.

Gabriel hurried along.

The street outside the hotel was crowded, everything a gray haze as he pushed past the bright, laughing faces of couples as they walked arm and arm, past families making hasty dinner plans with their children. The world seemed too bright, too okay for him to exist there amongst the rest of them.

At the end of the block there was a couple getting out of a cab, and he pushed them out of his way much to the man's protests and a 'hey, watch it, buddy!' Gabriel shrugged them off and climbed into the back of the vehicle, slamming the door on the man's angry face while his wife tried to pull him back and away from the curb by his arm.

"Where you going in such a hurry?" The driver asked, looking back at his pale, miserable face in the review mirror.

Gabriel leaned against the door, head against the glass, his head not following or comprehending the other man's words.

"I said…" The driver started, agitation clear in his tone.

"Just - just drive…" Gabriel mumbled.

"You better be able to pay," the cabbie grumbled as he pulled away from the curb, leaving the angry couple on the sidewalk, shouting at them as he weaved into traffic and started away.

XXX

Claire and Peter had spent the last day or so bickering back and forth. The only thing it had served to do was make an unpleasant situation a lot worse than it needed to be.

Claire had tried her best to be as diplomatic as possible about everything. She had tried to back off and let Peter work through what ever it was that had him so irritable and on edge. But he had been itching for a fight, and Claire being the only one of which to vent his anger on, took advantage of it. Claire had bit her tongue on many an occasion over the last few days, but even she had her breaking point. She had snapped back at him after one snide comment too many and now, as a result, they were barely on speaking terms.

It hadn't helped that they had been in the midst of tracking and bringing down some religious nut with a penchant for dismemberment. A man convinced that the earth needed to be cleansed of all sexual perversion. Claire had not relished the idea of posing as a hooker, but if the job required her to set herself on fire, she would. Claire was not one for shying away from any task put before her. She just would have preferred not to have to deal with Peter's mouth the entire time.

It was enough to make Claire start wondering if it was too soon for her to start requesting an early retirement.

Claire knew that she had tried her best to be sympathetic when it came to Peter and what he was going through. It didn't take a mind reader for her to know that something had happened between him and Mohinder back at headquarters. Claire could tell from his foul mood that her uncle was doing his best to torture himself wondering just what Gabriel and Mohinder were doing while they were on assignment together in Phoenix.

Claire understood; she knew Peter was in love with Mohinder, but having seen Gabriel and Mohinder together, it was obvious that despite what ever bitterness existed between the two, they were crazy about each other.

A blind person could see the way they looked at one another and notice the unmistakable mutual attraction between them.

She knew that Peter was fighting a losing battle; Mohinder's heart was clearly not with Peter's, no matter how badly he wanted it to be.

As for Gabriel, Claire missed him. They had talked briefly the night before and, much to her disappointment, Gabriel had to cut the conversation short. He had been in the middle of getting dressed to meet Mohinder for dinner. Claire had teased him unmercifully about his big 'date' so much so that she could practically hear him blushing a couple shades of red on the other end of the phone.

It was a thought that made her smile as she had wished him luck and hung up, feeling slightly relieved to know that things were going so well on their end.

The conversation she and Gabriel had back at the diner, regarding the picture he had drawn, before they had parted ways had weighed heavily on her mind off and on since.

She had asked Gabriel to call her back, but had not yet heard from him.

It wasn't exactly distressing her, as she was sure they were every bit as busy as she and Peter were with their own assignment, but still it gave her pause and made her wonder. She just hoped things were okay.

Her day had been pretty eventful to say the least, starting with her and Peter having yet another fight before breakfast. But for the sake of the assignment, not to mention her own mental health, she had decided to let it go. Peter could not help but try to get in a few jabs about Gabriel, making it quite clear that he was still not thrilled about her friendship with him. Claire understood Peter's grievances with Gabriel; she didn't think he was completely out of left field with his outright hatred for the other man, but she wasn't about to let Peter pick and chose her friends for her.

Truthfully, Claire really didn't care what Peter liked or didn't like. She liked Gabriel. She cared about him, and despite that one terrifying instance back in New York, she hadn't seen even a trace of the murderous serial killer he once was again – all she saw was a sweet, painfully shy guy who she could talk to and share her feelings with.

It was a lonely life being a Company agent, and she had desperately needed a friend to confide in, someone who accepted her for her, and with whom she could share her concerns and fears with.

So, despite her initial misgivings, she had been willing to give Gabriel the benefit of the doubt, and was pleased with herself for making the effort to find a warm, caring person in the shell of a former ruthless killer.

Yet, trying to explain this to Peter was like trying to get through a brick wall. Peter held only blind hate for Gabriel, the kind of hate that frightened Claire.

Peter, though stubborn, had long been one of the warmest, most open people she had ever known. Once, long ago, he had been a kind, sweet to fault, loveable guy. But she was well aware that his brother's and her biological father's death had destroyed a part of him, a part of him that the loss of his relationship with Mohinder had only worsened.

On the subject of Mohinder, Claire wasn't exactly sure were she stood.

She liked Mohinder for the most part; sure, he was a bit opinionated and self righteous on occasion, but he was also a damn good agent: smart and quick thinking, even if was he was also a bit cold and aloof.

Claire had learned early on some of the reasons for his strange behavior, starting with things about his relationship with his father, how it had led to his own research and eventually meeting and befriending Sylar back when he was posing as one of his victims on a cross country tour of murder. Claire knew that situation had ended with her uncle nearly dying in an attempt to save Mohinder's life from Sylar, an experience that only served to make the tangled web of relationships she had spent the last month or so observing that much more troubling and confusing. Then there had been the death of Molly Walker, the young girl Mohinder had unselfishly rescued from the first Company's clutches and decided to raise as his own, only to have her die of some strange, unknown virus. Claire had no doubt that Mohinder had been hurt horrifically and deeply, and though he was perhaps one of the most attractive men Claire had ever met, there was also an intense sadness that surrounded him, making it impossible for her to warm up to him, as much as she would have liked to.

These were the thoughts that filled Claire's head in the aftermath of their completed assignment.

A threat from the start, the killer had gotten in the body bag he had coming to him. The company was now finally arriving to escort his corpse back to headquarters for study. They had known early on that this was one guy who wasn't going to suddenly become a rational, sane human being- those who believed that their abilities were preordained by God in order to do some 'much needed' smiting of the wicked were usually not going to change their ways of thinking anytime soon, making rehabilitation impossible. That, and the bastard had tried to kill her. There was no love lost there; her conscious was clean.

Once she and Peter made it back to the motel, Claire offered her irate uncle the shower even though she was the one who had her arm ripped off and was more or less covered from head to toe in her own blood. The memory actually brightened her mood a bit, causing her to stifle back a giggle as she remembered the look of utter horror on that fucker's face when it had grown back. It hadn't exactly been a walk in the park taking down a nut job with super speed and super strength, but Claire thought that she and Peter had managed quite nicely despite having been at each other's throats the entire day.

She waited until Peter went into the bathroom to shower. Once she heard the showerhead turn on, she took out her cell phone and went outside. Oddly enough, the moment she flipped it open it rang in her hand.

Surprised, she answered it.

"Hello?"

"Claire, It's Mohinder…"

The sound of his voice, frantic and terrified, sent a cold stab of fear straight through her heart.

"Mohinder, what's the matter? Is everything okay?"

He ignored her questions as he plunged straight through with one of his own.

"Claire, have you spoken to Gabriel?"

"No, not since last night. Why what's going on?" she was quick to ask.

"He's not picking up his phone and I figured if he wouldn't talk to me, that he might at least talk to you and…I am trying to find him now but the system I have on my phone is a bit unpredictable and…"

"Slow down," she said, bringing her voice down to a whisper, all the while keeping an eye on the closed room door for signs of Peter.

"Help me find him," Mohinder pleaded with her. Claire closed her eyes. The broken sound of Mohinder's voice got to her, worried her.

Claire spun around to go back into the room and was stopped by Peter standing there, watching her, his eyes hooded and unreadable.

"Give me the phone, Claire," he said, holding out his hand for it.

Claire went to step back, glaring at him for interrupting her conversation. She tried to twist away from him, but he was too quick: he made a quick grab and snatched the cell phone out of her hand.

Claire was absolutely furious. "What the hell…!"

Peter ignored her as he moved away, speaking into the phone.

"Mohinder, it's Peter, what is it… what's the matter?" he asked, the words coming out in a rush.

Mohinder was surprised to hear Peter on the phone but, he should have known better. In the background he could hear Claire protesting.

"I was speaking to Claire," Mohinder answered stiffly.

"And now you are speaking to me," Peter seethed, trying, but failing, to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Peter…I can't do this with you…" Mohinder shut his eyes for the moment as he fumbled with the keys in hand, opening the car door to the rental.

Mohinder was distracted and not thinking clearly; it was easy enough for Peter to search his thoughts out for the real root of the problem.

"He found out… ?"

Claire watched uneasily as Peter gripped the phone hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He started pacing back and forth in front of her in a fury.

"Did he hurt you? I swear to god … that son of a bitch…"

"Calm down," Mohinder started, only to have his words cut off by Peter's paranoid words again.

Claire could feel the tension ripe in the air, her own stomach sick with it as she nervously watched her uncle continue to curse angrily into the phone.

Claire went to say something, but Peter was already snapping the phone shut and tossing it towards her. Claire made a quick grab for it, catching it before it could hit the sidewalk.

Claire took a deep breath, shaking her head at him.

Peter ignored her and went back into the room, slamming the door behind him. Claire followed after, throwing the door open hard enough to have it bounce against the wall.

"What the fuck was that!?"

Peter was standing only in a pair of jeans now, shirtless, and ignored her as he continued to busy himself by pulling a clean shirt from his suitcase by the bed.

"Peter…"

When he finally did turn to look at her, she could see that his face was a mask of barely concealed rage. It was then that she knew something terrible had happened. She thought quickly back to the picture that Gabriel had drawn and worry filled her as she prayed that Gabriel hadn't done anything to hurt Mohinder. As soon as she had even thought it, Peter's eyes snapped in her direction, widening.

"What picture?"

She looked away, but Peter couldn't be contained as he stalked over towards her and grabbed her arm hard enough to hurt. She winced and tried to jerk away from him, but he held her tight.

"Goddamn it, Claire! What picture?"

"You're hurting me," she protested.

"Do you even know what the hell might happen to Mohinder?!"

"He and Gabriel had a fight… it's not…"

"What?!" Peter shouted at her. He released Claire, causing her to stagger backwards.

"Do you think this is a simple fucking lover's quarrel?"

Claire bit her lip but didn't say anything. Peter threw her a disgusted look.

"Tell me about the picture, Claire," he demanded.

"No."

He eyed her, anger darkening his eyes. "You know what, Claire? That's fine. You go ahead and defend him, it's what you do best isn't it?"

Claire closed her eyes, biting her tongue to keep from losing her temper. She took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Don't you think that just maybe you are jumping to conclusions here?"

Peter rolled his eyes at her, speaking slowly as if he were talking to some backwards child, using a tone that absolutely infuriated Claire.

"If you knew what was at stake, you wouldn't be saying that," he told her.

A moment passed, and slowly realization dawned on her.

"You can't!"

"Can't what…"

She marched right up to Peter and shoved him as hard as she could into the wall behind him.

"Tell me, tell me my father… didn't… tell me…"

"Calm down, Claire!"

Claire was furious as she started hitting him with her fists. He reached out and grasped her flailing arms, tightened his hold on her wrists to stop the assault.

"Cut it out, Claire!"

But Claire continued to fight against him. Goddamn her father for turning her job over to Peter of all people.

"You double crossing son of a bitch! Fuck you! Just fuck you and my father! Fuck you both!"

"You don't understand…"

"No, _you_ don't! I won't let you do this…"

Peter pushed her gently but firmly away from him.

"We'll see what your father says when I call him…"

Those words sent a cold chill through Claire. She stood there, shaking, as the absolute helpless fury she felt overwhelmed her.

"You do that and I'll be sure to tell him that you're basing your decision on the fact that Mohinder is in love with him."

Peter's face colored, and he took a deep breath, looking as if the top of his head would come off at those words.

"No, I am going to tell Bennett about New York."

Claire's eyes widened in shock.

"Don't-"

Peter cut her off.

"I want that son of a bitch dead. Do you hear me? I am not letting him destroy my life or Mohinder's one second longer."

"You do this and I swear to God, I will never speak to you again."

Peter was unconvinced.

"Yes, you will…"

Claire turned away in disgust, picking her bag off the chair in the corner as she made her way towards the door.

"Don't bet on it," she added over her shoulder as she slammed the door as hard she could in her wake.

XXX

Somewhere outside the city limits, Gabriel asked the driver to pull over at the first broken-down motel that he had spied.

It was an obvious dive, complete with a long row of dilapidated doors with paint peeling and debris littering the dusty, gravel parking lot. A broken, lopsided vacancy sign hung on a slant; the missing V and N told him that there were rooms available.

The cab driver did as Gabriel requested and pulled in. He put the car in park and there was a moment of silence as he waited for Gabriel to pay him.

Gabriel caught the man shooting him a look as if to say 'You getting out or not?' from the rearview mirror.

"You meeting someone, guy?" The driver asked, trying to speed things along.

Gabriel ignored his question as leaned across the partition and shoved a couple of bills into the man's waiting hands. Then he opened the car door and climbed out into the dry, warm night air. The driver quickly counted the wad of bills and pocketed them before he threw the car into drive and headed back onto the open road, leaving Gabriel behind without so much as a backwards glance.

Gabriel stood there by the side of road for a long time, unable to move. He blinked back tears and wiped a hand across his brow as he willed himself to start walking. He sighed as he went into the office, one marked by a seedy blinking neon orange sign by the door. The kid behind the counter, engrossed in a dirty magazine, didn't seem put off in the slightest by the tall, hollowed eyed stranger who entered and paid cash for a room. He only slid a key across the desk and pocketed the money, barely looking up from his issue of 'Wet and Wild Coeds.' Gabriel took his key and went back outside. Even as he started down the pathway, the tangled and clouded thoughts running feverish circles around his head made finding the room difficult. It seemed like ages before he found the correct room number, longer still before he could get the key to fit into the lock and properly let himself in. The room was dark and he was instantly greeted by a smell of dankness and stale cigarette smoke. He didn't turn on the lights. Gabriel simply threw himself down on the worn mattress in the middle of the room, one that reeked of a previous occupant's overpoweringly cheap cologne. He laid there in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, tears trickling down the corners of his eyes.

The cell phone in his pocket continued to vibrate.

XXX

"What is it?"

Bennett looked up from his desk as he replaced the phone in hand back in its cradle. He gave a weary groan as he waved the other man in.

"Come in Matt, shut the door."

Matt gave him a questioning look before doing as Bennett requested.

Bennett closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of the nose before taking in a deep, welcoming breath while he tried to pull together his thoughts.

"I gave him the okay," Bennett said softly, looking up to meet the other man's concerned eyes.

Matt was taken aback by the look of sorrow on Bennett's face. It took quite a bit for something to crawl that deeply under the skin of man like Noah Bennett.

"Oh," Matt said as he came over and slid a chair towards where Bennett sat.

There was a moment of silence as Matt watched Bennett calmly start to clean his glasses.

Matt thought a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"I hope you realize that none of this is your fault boss; sometimes this shit happens."

"I screwed up with New York."

Matt waited for him to elaborate.

"I knew she was lying to me."

"Claire -"

Bennett nodded. "I didn't want to believe it but…"

Matt was thoughtful for the moment.

"Well, that's what you get for raising your kid to think for herself."

Bennett slid his glasses back on and nodded.

"Yeah, I know but still it doesn't change…"

"I know," Matt said. "It doesn't change a goddamn thing."

"It never does," he added.

There was another long silence. Then Bennett sighed, pushing back in his seat.

"Well… I have Claire on the next flight here. You let me know the second she lands; I need to have a talk with her."

Matt sighed. "What are you going to do?"

"She broke company policy, didn't she? Do you expect me to go easy on her because she is my daughter?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, I do. Listen, Bennett, her heart was in the right place. She is a good person and furthermore a fine agent. You have yourself to thank for that."

"Still… if I don't do something…"

Matt reached across the desk and rested his hand on the back of Bennett's. It was a calming and concerned gesture that seemed to surprise Bennett as he looked up to meet Matt's eyes.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Matt told him. "It'll work itself out," he added.

Bennett nodded and agreed.

Yet, inside he knew it wasn't quite that simple. Gabriel Gray had to die and his daughter had to be punished. Things were as far from alright as they could get.

"What a fucking day," he murmured. Matt couldn't agree more.


	18. Fatal Flaw

**Part 18****  
****Fatal Flaw**

**Summary:** Claire faces her father's wrath, only to find herself making a split second decision which could cost her her life. Meanwhile, Mohinder and Gabriel face the truth about their past and share a moment that changes everything.  
**Word Count:** 5622  
**Rated:** NC 17 for smut (yes... you read that right!) language, mild violence and angst.

**AN:** Only 2 more chapters to go... woo hoo! As always HUGE thank you's to my beta Motsureru

XXX

Claire Bennet should have known that the minute she stepped off the plane someone from the Company would be there to greet her. In this case, it was Matt. The fact that the man could read her mind wasn't going to make planning an escape route all that easy.

She sighed as she approached him.

"I take it your flight was pleasant," Matt said conversationally.

Claire only glared at him. He was lucky she hadn't decided to open a window in flight and throw herself from it.

She imagined he'd have a hard time explaining that to her father when he came back empty-handed.

"So what no handcuffs? No armored escort back to headquarters?" She asked, only half joking.

"I don't think it has to come to that. Do you?"

"I don't know," she answered, "You tell me?"

Matt just shook his head, obviously not willing to divulge more information to her than he had to.

Claire's thoughts drifted back to Peter and the fact that he had actually had the audacity to force her onto a plane in the first place. Her father hadn't even wanted to speak to her or hear her side of the story once Peter had let out the truth about what happened with Randy back in New York. Her father had more or less ordered Peter to put her on the next flight back to California, going so far as to issue threats as he did so. Peter made it known that if she tried to fight her father's decision Company measures would have to be put in place immediately.

Claire was worried, but she was also no one's fool, and she would be damned if she was going to stand there shaking in her boots now. Claire knew that her and Gabriel's only chance was for her to meet with her father face to face. She was hopeful that once he heard her out he would cease his orders against Gabriel immediately. It was a long shot, but it was all any of them had at this stage in the game. She cocked her head to the side and made her expression seem as petulant and bored as possible.

"So, I take it my father is too busy ordering the executions of innocent men to come and meet me personally?"

Matt smiled slightly. "Something like that…"

"He's pissed at me," she said, struggling to keep her tone noncommittal, but obviously Matt didn't need to be a mind reader to see that she was trying to get him to tell her more.

"That's putting it mildly," Matt told her.

"Where is Peter now?"

Matt raised an eyebrow. "He's back at the Company with your father."

Claire studied his eyes for signs of the truth and what she saw caused her to let loose a deep sigh of relief.

"That's not to say he's going to be there forever, Claire," Matt said. "You understand what I am telling you, right?"

She nodded, dread filling her and making her feel sick.

"Well, lets get this fucking thing on already," she said, sighing wearily. She tossed her carry on bag at him.

"Carry this for me, would you?"

Matt grunted as the heavy bag fell into his hands.

"What the hell are you packing in this?"

"My makeup," she deadpanned, starting away, "Coming?" she added. Matt only shrugged in response, slinging the bag over his shoulder as he started after her.

XXX

Claire was driven straight from the airport and escorted directly to her father's office. Matt knocked first, and hearing her father's gruff response, opened the door and ushered her inside. Matt left quickly, not wishing to stick around for the inevitable fire fight. Claire stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, hating how no matter how many terrible things she had seen, done, or lived through, she was instantly reduced once more into a little girl when she was in her father's presence.

Bennet was sitting on the front end of his desk with his arms crossed.

"Have a seat," He told her, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

Claire did so, willing her spine a little straighter as she met her father's stoic expression. She could see that he wasn't about to spare her anything. He was angry that she could see it in the steady clench of his jaw and the careful way in which he studied her. She tried her best to appear relaxed and in control.

If only she could think of a way to express her self… she thought of Mohinder and Gabriel in Phoenix and cursed the fact that her cell phone had been taken from her. Were they worried that they had not heard from her? Or worse still, had Peter and the Company gone after them? Was Gabriel already dead?

Claire opened her mouth to ask but stopped herself, knowing that desperation would not bode well for her. Above all things, her father prized honesty and she had lied to him by keeping the truth from him. He wasn't about to tell her anything that would ease her obvious worry, not when she had gone against him and Company policy in the first place by allowing Gabriel to go unpunished for what had transpired back in New York.

"You can't do this." The words were out before she could stop herself.

"Please…" she whispered. The sobs that she had managed to keep in check up until that point became caught in her throat as tears whelmed up in her eyes. Her father only raised an eyebrow in response, not giving anything away.

"Say something… tell me you forgive me. Tell me you'll let me go to Phoenix and help him… please Dad…" Claire all but begged, wringing her hands.

"I am not only going to tell you not to go, Claire," Bennet told her, his expression grim.

"I am telling you that it is forbidden."

"You can not be serious," Claire protested, "How can you do this?!"

"Claire…"

"No, you did this. You and no one else. He wasn't ready. Don't you understand that?"

Bennet slammed his hands down on the desk, making Claire jump at the outburst.

"You are staying right here. Do you hear me? You have already proved to me that you are ill equipped to handle this…"

"Ill equipped!" Claire shouted, as she leapt to her feet. "Why, because I have feelings? Because I refuse to live my life like you? Emotionless, unfeeling…"

"That's enough!"

"No," Claire insisted shaking her head, "It's not enough. It is far from enough. He's my friend and I believe in him. You always told me to fight for what I believe. And I believe in this."

'Your friend is a danger to himself and to everyone else. It is unfortunate, but the time has come to put protective measures in place."

Claire had spent the last four years of her life listening to everyone tip toe around such issues with their cryptic bullshit and she was quite frankly fed up.

"Oh for God's sake, would you stop speaking and code? Just come out and say it!"

"Fine!" Bennet shouted back as he eyed his angry daughter.

"Gabriel Gray is no longer a part of this organization. He is a threat now and as such…"

"Say it!" she urged, "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you are sending Peter to kill him."

Bennet did not shy away from her hard stare. He nodded, solemnly.  
"Yes."

"What you are doing is wrong. This is wrong."

Bennet only continued to meet the heated glare of his daughter's eyes as he clicked the call button on his desk.  
"Yes?" a voice through the speaker answered.  
Bennet continued to watch his daughter carefully to see what she would do, but she only stood there, arms folded over her chest, her expression one of defiance that even now he could not help but admire.  
"Will you send security in here immediately to escort Miss Bennet down to holding?"  
Claire's eyes widened at those words, but she didn't look away either.  
"Very well, sir," came the reply.  
"You might want to tell them to up the dosage," she told him with a sarcastic sneer.  
"It's going to take more than the usual amount to put me down."  
"Do you honestly think I would have you killed?" Bennet questioned, his expression softening as he stared at her, bewildered. Her lip started to quiver as she took in the concerned eyes of her father's gaze.  
"I don't know. I told you when I started I didn't want special treatment."  
"And you have never asked me for it until now." There was sorrow in his voice.  
Claire took in a ragged breath and wiped at the tears that had started to flow as she nodded.

"You're wrong about him…he only did what he did to protect the person he loves. Does that sound familiar?" she asked softly. There were tears in Bennet's eyes as he watched her. He went to speak, but was stopped by a knock on the door. A guard poked his head in. Bennet motioned him inside and nodded towards the man to take Claire into custody. The man reached for handcuffs, but Bennet waved them off.  
"That won't be necessary will it?" Bennet asked his daughter.  
"No sir," she replied. The man took her elbow while another guard stepped into the room, joining the first as they steered her away.  
Bennet watched with a heavy heart as they led her from the room.  
He wiped at his brow and clicked the buzzer once more.

"Yes, sir?" came the disembodied voice on the other end.  
"Send in Peter immediately …" he requested. 

XXX  
Claire kept her chin held high and her expression stoic as she allowed the guards on duty to escort her down the hall in full view of her colleagues. There was a tittering of voices discussing this turn of events amongst themselves. Claire refused to acknowledge them as she tried to fight back the slow mounting panic. She was getting out of here; there was no way she could in good conscience sit idly by and do nothing while her uncle was being sent out to kill an innocent man. An innocent man that Claire considered a friend. There had to be some way for her to fix this, some way for her to make this right. She just had to focus and concentrate on finding an opportunity. She had been trained well enough to know that all it would take would be one moment of weakness on the part of the guards for her to exploit. Her father gave her no credit; she had been in much worse messes before and had found her way out of them.

If he thought for one second that these two idiots he had sent to take her away could stop her, he had another thing coming.

She waited until the elevator doors closed shut to make her move.

In no time at all, Claire turned on the guard standing closest to her and knocked him out with a lightening quick shot to the face. As he fell, she made a quick grab for his gun. It was in her hands just in time for the second guard to figure out what was happening and start to reach for his own weapon.

"Don't be an idiot," she told him as his hand hovered over the holster.

"You're not going to shoot me," the man protested, full of confidence.

His hand went back for his weapon, but Claire wasn't stopping to think at this point; it was all instinct. Letting loose a shot, she caught the man in the shoulder, sending the gun he had managed to get in hand into the corner. He dropped to his knees, crying out as he clutched at the wound, blood spilling over his hands.

Claire strode up to him, trying to keep cool as she aimed her gun.

"Don't make this worse for yourself by killing me," the guard told her, teeth clenched against the pain.

"I am not going to kill you," she replied as she clocked him over the head with the butt of her gun and sent him sprawling face-first onto the floor with a dull thud.

Claire tucked her gun into the back of her pants and went searching into his pockets for his keycard. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found it.

This had been easier than she had expected.

The hard part would be getting out of the building.

XXX

The sound of insistent knocking woke him. Gabriel came to with a jolt, completely unaware that he had fallen asleep. He found himself lying on his back, staring into the pitch blackness of a room he could only vaguely remember coming to in the first place. He rose from the bed on legs that felt too heavy, his head clouded with fragmented thoughts that he found himself wincing against. He grimaced as they started to come into focus, bringing with them renewed feelings of guilt and shame.

The pounding at the door continued. He heard his name being called.

Gabriel stumbled to the source of the noise, trying to get his bearings in the darkened room. He threw open the door to find Mohinder standing there, his hand poised as if to knock again. There was concern mixed with relief written in his dark eyes. Mohinder went to speak, but stopped as he took in the wide eyed, pale form of Gabriel, leaning against the door frame as if strength had abandoned him. Mohinder dropped his hand to his side.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Gabriel went to answer him but found he couldn't; the words were stopped as a wave of dizziness washed over him, bringing with it horrible flashes, images of Mohinder pleading with him, begging for him to stop and…

Gabriel lost his grip on the frame of the door and stumbled forward a bit. That hungry blackness inside him rose once more to meet him, but he fought it, struggling to push it down.

Mohinder reached forward and caught Gabriel in his arms, kicking the door closed with his foot and marching them both over to the bed. Mohinder pushed Gabriel down into sitting position. He went with nary a protest as Mohinder went and searched around the room for the light switch. Finding it, he flicked it on. The room came into focus in murky yellow, the poor shape of its furnishing even more pronounced under the ghastly glow.

Mohinder turned back towards Gabriel. He found him simply sitting there, motionless and staring off into space. Mohinder knelt down next to him.

"Are you hurt?" It was the only thing that Mohinder could think to ask. Gabriel lifted his gaze towards Mohinder's and shook his head. When he spoke his voice barely climbed to that above a whisper.

"No," he said simply.

Mohinder was reluctant to leave him for even a moment's time, but quickly decided that with the state that Gabriel was in he wasn't going to go anywhere anytime soon.

"I'll be just a second," Mohinder told him. There was no response to indicate that Gabriel had heard him this time. He continued to stare into the wall in front of him. Mohinder went into the bathroom and ran a washcloth under cold water.

He came back to the bedroom to find that Gabriel had not moved an inch from the bed. Mohinder knelt down beside him once more and, with tears stinging his eyes, reached up and started to wipe his brow, watching Gabriel's eyes for any signs of what was going on now inside his head.

"My god, what happened to you?" Mohinder wondered out loud. He stood up and looked the other man over. He tossed the washcloth onto the night stand and went back over to Gabriel. He put his hands over Gabriel's face and forced the other man to look at him.

"Come back to me, Gabriel," Mohinder pleaded, "Please tell me what happened to you." Gabriel slowly turned his gaze over to Mohinder.

He blinked a few times. Mohinder breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he ran his hand down the side of the other man's face, watching as Gabriel slowly came to as if he had been awoken from a heavy sleep.

"Can you hear me?"

Gabriel just stared at Mohinder for a moment and then nodded his head as he took Mohinder's hands in his own and lowered them.

"Where am I?"

"Some absolutely disgusting motel," Mohinder told him as he laughed out loud with relief.

"I was so worried about you," he added.

Gabriel dropped both of Mohinder's hands and lowered his eyes, feeling sick to his stomach. There were more thoughts and images of which, try as he might, he could not make heads or tails of. It was driving him crazy to try to sort through the thoughts that troubled him now, images of them in a room only vaguely nicer than this one, locked together, all arms and legs, whispers and pleas exchanged between them. It should have been a pleasant memory, but it wasn't. The memory of it seemed to cut him open, exposing every open wound that had never healed.

Gabriel bent his head and started sobbing into his palms, unable to control any of the emotions that surged from him.

The pain was too much as he let loose every long held-in ache. Mohinder stepped forward, unsure of what to do, only to feel Gabriel's hands reach for him and pull him close.

Mohinder tried to soothe him with gentle fingers, smoothing back his hair, whispering calming words.

But Gabriel only cried harder as he clung to the front of Mohinder's shirt, sobbing into the other man's stomach.

"I am so sorry. I am so sorry Mohinder," Gabriel moaned over and over. There were tears in Mohinder's own eyes as he listened to Gabriel beg him for his forgiveness.

"I never wanted you to know," Mohinder whispered.

Gabriel pulled back, his desperate eyes searching Mohinder's own.

"Why the hell not?" he had to ask, unable to stop himself as the words poured out.

Mohinder just gaped at him, completely at loss for words.

"Gabriel…" He started to pull back, reaching behind him to untangle Gabriel's grip on him, but the other man clung steadfast, determined to know.

"Why? Why do you think you had to live with it by yourself? I deserved to know."

Mohinder shoved the other man off of him.

Gabriel watched as Mohinder paced the carpet in front of him for a moment before turning back to look at him. There was a look of bewilderment written in every line on his weary face.

"You didn't want to know," Mohinder finally answered.

"You couldn't bear to live with it anymore than I could. Except unlike you, I wasn't given the option to forget… I didn't get to fix it. I had to live with it and it nearly killed me!"

The outburst took Gabriel aback. He started to stand and go to him, but the look on Mohinder's face stopped him.

He realized then that he was getting what he wished for: the truth, all of it. Gabriel could see now how carrying around these things for so long had broken Mohinder bit by bit, until he had at last become someone he wasn't.

Gabriel may not have remembered the man he had been, but he knew the man he was now, and in his heart, Gabriel knew without a doubt that once he had been someone kind and loving. This person who stood in front of him, this cold, hard shell of a human being, was his doing. He had broken Mohinder. They had broken each other.

Gabriel went to speak, saying Mohinder's name softly, but Mohinder was swept up now, caught up in finally unleashing his own long buried feelings.

"I lost everything! I lost my father, I lost Molly, I lost my sanity… I lost Peter…"

Mohinder paused, breathing heavily.

"I could have been happy with him. I loved him. I wanted to be with him but I couldn't…I couldn't stop thinking of you. I couldn't function because everything and everyone reminded me of you and what you did…and how weak I had been…how easily you fooled me into loving you in the first place…"

Mohinder had to turn away, his breathing hitched as sobs wracked his body. He slammed his fists into his legs, trying to calm himself.

Gabriel slowly rose and made his way over to Mohinder. He took the smaller man by his shoulders and turned him around. He tilted Mohinder's chin up and made him look at him. Gabriel carefully wiped at the other man's red-rimmed eyes.

"I would give anything to go back and change what happened…"

"So would I," Mohinder whispered as he rested his head on Gabriel's chest and allowed Gabriel to hold him.

"You won't believe me. But, I know in my heart I never wanted to hurt you," Gabriel whispered.

"I wanted you so badly, but I knew… I knew that as much as I wanted you that I couldn't keep you. I had to let you go and I did what I did…because I couldn't bear the thought of never being near you again."

Mohinder looked up and searched Gabriel's tear-filled eyes.

Gabriel reached up to cup Mohinder's face between his palms.

"It - it doesn't make it right. It wasn't. There is nothing I can say to justify why I did that to you…why I allowed the part of myself that was capable of such a thing to hurt you like that. I couldn't let you go. I know even now, Mohinder… that we are just not meant to be."

"I know," Mohinder breathed as their lips met.

At that touch, something inside of them both reached desperately for the other. In a feverish haste they began to pull at each other's clothing. Mohinder lifted his arms so that Gabriel could pull his shirt off and toss it to the floor. Then, bare-chested, Gabriel pulled him back into his arms. His lips collided against Mohinder's, sucking and pulling on his lower lip, moaning into the other man's open mouth.

Mohinder hands raked his hair, pulling him even closer, needing more.

Gabriel had to stop him, though. He reached up and took Mohinder by the shoulders, pulled him back slightly. He searched Mohinder's lust-filled eyes, determined to make sure that this was something they both wanted.

"Tell me you want this?"

There was no hesitation as Mohinder moved to kiss him once more.

"I want this. I want you," he told him. Then he was back in Gabriel's arms, driving them both towards the bed. Mohinder pushed him backwards so that Gabriel had no choice but to sit down on the edge. Mohinder stood above him, allowing Gabriel's legs to rest firmly against Mohinder's own, pinning him between them. Gabriel moved his hands up to grip him tightly around the waist, tugging Mohinder closer. Gabriel was eye-level with what seemed to be miles of flawless beauty. He started to brush his lips across the flat planes of Mohinder's stomach and up towards his chest, raining kisses and soft licks over every inch of available skin, breath warm and desperate. He heard Mohinder sigh at the teasing sensation as Gabriel worked his way upwards to Mohinder's mouth.

Mohinder leaned down to meet him, capturing his mouth once more with his own.

The instant their lips met, Gabriel found himself being pushed backwards onto the bed with Mohinder following after him. He sat up on his elbows as Mohinder threw his legs over his lap and pinned him down to the bed, straddling him into place.

Gabriel continued to kiss Mohinder as he felt Mohinder's nimble fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt. Those full lips of Mohinder's sought the sensitive flesh along Gabriel's neck and jaw, leaving a trail of small nips as he went.

Gabriel tilted his head back to allow Mohinder more access as he slid Gabriel's shirt down and off of his shoulders. Gabriel groaned out loud at the feel of his skin against Mohinder's own, sighing contently as they continued to search out each other's sensitive areas, gasping in pleasure with each new discovery. Their mutual erections were rubbing against each other, causing white light to spark behind Gabriel's eyes. He wrapped his arms around Mohinder's waist and flipped them over so that he was on top of the other man. His eyes met Mohinder's own and he watched as Mohinder nodded, a dreamy smile on his face, his fingers lost in Gabriel's hair. Gabriel slid downwards, leaving more kisses and licks in his wake. He stopped once he was at the buckle of Mohinder's jeans, and, undoing the clasp, lifted the other man's legs just long enough to slid his boxers and jeans down and off. He felt Mohinder tense up and heard him let out a small startled gasp when Gabriel took his hardness in hand. Mohinder's gasp of pleasure quickly turned into a contented sigh when Gabriel gently took him into his mouth.

Mohinder reached down to rest his hands in Gabriel's hair, moaning as Gabriel continued to slide his mouth up and down his length, licking and sucking every available inch offered. Gabriel felt Mohinder's hands in his hair, soft and gentle at first, start to tighten as Mohinder began to arch upwards, whispering and pleading with him for more. The sounds he made, all soft whimpers and desperate groaning, combined with the taste of him made Gabriel impossibly hard. He found himself grinding his own aching hardness against the mattress in an effort to release some of the mounting pressure. Then to his surprise, Mohinder was reaching for his biceps and tugging Gabriel upwards back on top of him. Mohinder pulled him into a searing kiss, their tongues meeting in the middle. Mohinder groaned loudly, loving the taste of himself on Gabriel's swollen lips.

Gabriel reached down and took Mohinder's erection in hand again. He started to slide his hand up and down in smooth, perfectly timed strokes as he set about kissing and nibbling on Mohinder's neck.

"Fuck me," Gabriel whispered into his ear.

Mohinder froze then, and his hips stopped thrusting upwards into Gabriel's fist. He turned to look at the other man, his hand coming up to cup Gabriel's face as they locked eyes.

"What?"

"Fuck me, please…" Gabriel urged.

"Have you…" The words died on Mohinder's lips as Gabriel seized them once more.

"I don't know. I don't care. I want it with you."

Mohinder nodded, swallowing as he urged Gabriel back, switching their positions again so he was on top. Mohinder's hands played with the clasp of Gabriel's jeans as he straddled his lap.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure…" Gabriel insisted, grasping Mohinder by the neck, pulled him down towards him.

"Just get these jeans off me," he pleaded as he nipped at Mohinder's bottom lip.

Mohinder turned his face and smiled into Gabriel's neck, licking a long strip from shoulder to ear. Sitting back, he tugged off the rest of Gabriel's clothes and threw them down onto the floor to join the already discarded pile of garments.

Now naked, they basked in the feel of each other, the smoothness of bare skin against bare skin as they move together, lost in taste and sensation. Then Mohinder was covering his fingers with his own lips, using what makeshift lube they had as he carefully reached downwards, sliding a finger inside.

"Try and relax.." Mohinder urged, "we don't have anything.."

Gabriel gasped against the sudden burn and arched upwards. The cry that fell from his lips was instantly caught by Mohinder in a furtive kiss as he gently started to thrust his finger in and out of him.

"Are you okay?" Mohinder asked.

"I want it to hurt. I need it to… don't, don't be gentle with me," Gabriel demanded through gritted teeth as Mohinder met the steely and determined gaze of Gabriel's dark eyes. He reentered him, adding another finger.

"You don't…I'm not here to punish you," Mohinder insisted.

Gabriel didn't say anything, just urged him closer and started to move against the intrusion, the pain.

"Just do it…now," he told Mohinder.

Mohinder pulled back slightly but continued to keep up the pace of his fingers, sliding them in and out, stretching Gabriel open.

"Turn over," Mohinder told him as he removed his fingers, preparing to enter him.

Gabriel shook his head and locked his legs around Mohinder's waist.

Gabriel urged him even closer, pulling him in with the back of his heels so that Mohinder's erection lined up against his entrance, his own aching length pressed between their bodies, rubbing between them in a way that brought tears to Gabriel's eyes every time they moved together.

"I want to see you. I have to…" he pleaded.

Mohinder nodded and leaned down, starting to kiss Gabriel again. Gabriel drew in a deep breath as he started to feel Mohinder push inside him. Gabriel reached for Mohinder's biceps, biting his lip against the sudden pain that seemed to spread across the entire lower half of his body. He threw his head back, crying out. Mohinder stopped, arms shaking as he fought back the urge to thrust, waiting for Gabriel to nod for him to continue.

"Please…" Gabriel begged him.

Mohinder was worried. It was obvious that the other man had never been on the receiving end of such things before, and without sufficient lubrication he was clearly in pain. Gabriel was so tight, the friction so intense, and Mohinder could see Gabriel struggling against the initial burn of being stretched in such a way. Mohinder didn't want to hurt him. He wanted to belong to him, to have them belong to each other. He started to rock his hips gently while trying to distract Gabriel from the initial discomfort by planting kisses on every available inch of skin he could reach. Tears of pleasure, pain, and desperation leaked down the length of Gabriel's face, trailing to the sheets. When he opened his eyes, he saw tears glistening in Mohinder's eyes as well. Gabriel tightened his grip on the other man's arms, nodding for him to continue. Mohinder started to quicken his thrusts, the mattress bouncing and squeaking under their combined weight and the feverish pace of their lovemaking as they started to find a rhythm between them.

A symphony of moans, breathless panting, and groaning joined the sounds of bare skin meeting bare skin as they started to make love to one another desperately.

"Harder…" Gabriel urged, "Please, harder…"

Mohinder nodded, speeding up as he started to pound Gabriel into the mattress beneath them. Gabriel found his fingernails raking the skin on Mohinder's back as he urged him deeper, needing him even closer.

The initial pain was giving way to pleasure, one that warmed Gabriel's whole body from head to toe. Gabriel was eager for it, even the slight pain that lingered, as it seemed to heighten the intensity of his pleasure. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head when Mohinder took Gabriel's hardness in hand and started to stroke him in time with his thrusts. Gabriel could feel it building, the inevitable climax, one he strived to meet while simultaneously praying never to find it. He wanted to spend forever locked now as they were, perfectly in sync and perfectly in tuned with one another. Gabriel wanted to engrain this moment into his memory, wanted to always be able to look back and remember Mohinder's flushed face, see him as clear as he did now, biting into the fullness of his bottom lip as he slammed into him.

But it was fast approaching, and with one more carefully timed thrust, Mohinder struck something inside him that caused his vision to explode behind his eyes.

Arching his back upwards, Gabriel grabbed hold of Mohinder's back and pulled him in as deep as he could inside himself, jerking from the strength of the pleasure that washed over him. He threw his head back and cried out Mohinder's name. Everything went dark for a moment, and when he opened his eyes, Mohinder was still thrusting inside him, sending additional shock waves through him as Mohinder came to, moaning Gabriel's name over and over as he bent forward and captured Gabriel's lips in a messy kiss, one that was all tongue and hot breath. Then both of their bodies seemed to steady and even out, everything coming to a standstill. Mohinder collapsed on top of Gabriel, panting and running his hands along Gabriel's body. Together they laid there, trying to will the air back into their lungs while the sweat started to cool on the tangled limbs of their spent bodies. Gabriel ran his fingers through Mohinder's curls as the other man's face rested itself on his chest. Gabriel stared up at the ceiling with tears in his eyes and words like "love" and "need" lying unsaid on the tip of his tongue.

The only sound was his own shuddered breaths and the quiet, broken sound of Mohinder sobs as Mohinder clutched at him desperately, neither one of them wanting to let go.


	19. Reckoning

The Road to Redemption

Part 19

Reckoning

Rated R for language, violence, and angst.

Word Count: 6168

Summary: Claire's attempt to warn Gabriel and Mohinder leads to disaster for all concerned.

AN: There is only one more chapter to go! 20 should be up sooner than later. Thank you so much for sticking through the long wait. I heart you guys. Thanks so much for reading!

""

As always, thank you so much to my beta Motsureru for doing such an incredible job as always.

It was the buzz of a cell phone vibrating in the pocket of Mohinder's discarded jeans that awoke Gabriel from his sleep. He was curled into Mohinder's side with his head rested on the other man's chest and his arm thrown loosely around his middle, both of them wrapped together in the safe confines of the motel's comforter

The room was pitch black but Gabriel could see enough to make out Mohinder's slumbering shape in the darkness; his contented snores made it clear that he was sound asleep.

Gabriel untangled his hold on Mohinder and sat up, instantly aware of the fact that he was naked and when he shifted to sit, sore. Even still, the feeling of sharp pain as he moved instantly brought a smile to the corners of his lips. Somehow, that seemed to be even more of a tangible reminder of what had transpired between them, more than the fact that they were both nude and lying in bed together. He nudged Mohinder's side. The other man grunted a bit in his sleep but ignored Gabriel as he turned over, still obviously dead to the world.

Gabriel would have loved nothing more than to throw his arm over him, to pull him close and go back to bed, but something was nagging him. It was a feeling of dread that, try as he might, he could not ignore.

"Your phone," Gabriel pressed as he shook his companion once more. This time, Mohinder came to with a start as he rolled over towards Gabriel, who was sitting there waiting expectantly beside him.

"What is it? What's the matter?" he asked, his voice groggy with sleep.

"Your cell phone. Someone called." There was a pause.

"I think you need to see who it is…" he added for no reason he could possibly think of, except for the ever present feeling he had that something was off. It wasn't going away. In fact, it only seemed to worsen as time passed. There was a moment in which his thoughts drifted towards the image of the sketch he had drawn. Shaking off that unsettling thought for the time being, he put his hand on the rough stubble of Mohinder's cheek, caressing lightly.

"Please…"

Mohinder nodded, not questioning him, as he twisted around and started to reach towards the floor. Gabriel heard him rummaging around in the pockets of his jeans for the cell phone.

Mohinder had it in hand when it vibrated again. He answered it immediately, straightening back up to sit beside Gabriel on the bed.

"Hello…"

"Oh thank god," came the flustered voice on the other end. "Please tell me that you are okay, that you found him and you both are…"

"Claire?" Mohinder was suddenly wide awake as he recognized the person the other end. "What is it?"

"Something bad has happened…"

Mohinder turned anxiously towards Gabriel, who was sitting there, completely motionless, watching him, the moonlight cutting across the worry in his dark eyes.

"I can't talk long," Claire continued, "but you have to… you need to get away, get as far away as…"

The phone connection started to break up as her desperate words were cut off by infuriating static.

"Claire… are you there? Claire!" Mohinder shouted into the phone, terror striking a deep and resounding chord as he received no response.

"You need to run…" she told him as her voice cut back in mid sentence.

Mohinder felt his stomach drop at those instructions. Instantly, he was reminded of Peter's words back at the Company, of his threats to tell Bennet the truth of what had happened back in New York. The gravity of the situation before them now filled Mohinder with a sudden and overwhelming panic, one that screamed at him with the urge to grab Gabriel and flee into the night. Yet, where would they go? There was no where for them to run where they could escape the far reaches of the Company. They were trapped and helpless, with nothing that they could do. Mohinder wanted to try, despite that, and yet it felt as if his legs were suddenly glued to the bed, his limbs made of liquid and unmovable.

The light by the bed switched on. Mohinder turned towards the source of it, blinking as his eyesight started to focus, burning for the briefest of moments from the glare. Gabriel was standing there, tugging his boxers on. He looked up, his dark eyes remaining on him, staring deeply into Mohinder's own, for a moment simply watching him as if they were pleading with Mohinder for something that neither could define. It took Mohinder a moment to notice that Gabriel had gotten up and out of bed, so absorbed was he in Claire's words and their implications. It dawned on Mohinder as he watched Gabriel dress that the man had obviously heard Claire's words. It looked as if Gabriel had a plan in place, whereas Mohinder did not know where in the world to even begin to formulate one.

Mohinder suddenly realized the reason why Gabriel was staring at him expectantly.

Gabriel had his hand outstretched towards the phone, making a hurried gesture indicating that he wished for Mohinder to hand it over. Mohinder did so without a word. Gabriel made a motion for him to get up and start getting dressed as he took the cell phone from him.

It was as if with that simple gesture that Mohinder was finally given back control of his unworkable limbs.

He hurriedly threw the covers off and climbed out of the bed, wasting no time getting up. He started hunting around the room for his clothes. He could hear Gabriel speaking into the phone. Mohinder looked up and studied the worried expression on the other man's face as he tried to talk to Claire through the increasing static. Where in the hell was she trying to call them from anyway? Mohinder wondered.

"Claire, it's Gabriel…I need you to tell me what happened." He sounded calm on the surface but Mohinder recognized the undercurrent of panic there. He could practically see the cogs in his brain spinning as he tried to sort through what was happening.

Gabriel turned away from Mohinder's watchful gaze and started pacing the room.

He heard Claire breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice.

"Oh thank god; I thought I would be too late…"

The seeds of fear that had started to form in the pit of Gabriel's stomach since he had awoken now started to grow as he heard her pause, faltering on her next words.

"Claire…"

"It's Peter, you have to..."

Gabriel closed his eyes against the sudden feeling of sickness. That blackness inside him that had been lying in wait started to swirl and twist its way around him, rising upwards. He felt his knuckles start to tingle from clutching the phone so tightly.

He held his breath as he waited for her to finish.

"They are sending him to kill you…" The last sentence came out in a pained whisper.

Those words were all it took- in that one sentence everything changed.

For, when Gabriel closed his eyes, Sylar opened them.

Mohinder had started to button up his shirt when he saw Gabriel shut the cell phone and simply release it, allowing it to casually fall to the floor.

"Gabriel…" He started to say, but the words died quickly when Gabriel turned around slowly to face him. Mohinder went to speak once more but was stopped as an icy band of terror curled itself inside his gut and stayed there. Mohinder found himself frozen into place when he realized who was there, looking at him with dark eyes which blazed with cold fury.

**Sylar.**

"Hello, Mohinder," he whispered softly. The sound of his voice sent instant chills up Mohinder's spine. He felt himself being plunged face-first into a nightmare of long ago, one that he wondered if he would be lucky enough to escape from again.

"Sylar?" Mohinder desperately searched for a reason for how this could be happening. How, so suddenly, he could have been in this room one minute with Gabriel and now…

"Don't look so surprised," Sylar chuckled darkly as he sauntered over towards where Mohinder was standing, running his hand along the rumpled bedspread as he did so.

It was a gesture that brought a look of equal parts triumph and disgust to Sylar's expression, twisting his features into something sinister and alarming.

"You see, Gabriel here decided he was going to panic and thought the best thing for him to do now would be to run away to protect you. Sweet of him… But what _I'm _wondering now is just how… Peter Petrelli found out about New York in the first place. Of course, Gabriel doesn't want to believe you'd sell him out, but I think you and I know better… after all, I seem to remember just how good you were at pretending to give a shit."

As those words poured from the other man's mouth, hot and venomous, Mohinder found himself backing up and inching closer to the door as Sylar advanced on him.

"I was unconscious. If you where there then you would know that," Mohinder quickly started, hoping that by talking, he could distract him from the realization that he was planning an escape.

"You're lying to me, Mohinder," Sylar whispered, head tilted as he studied him, a sneer touching the corners of his lips.

"I go to the trouble to save your life and this is how you repay me: by betraying me again. Doing it as easily as you breathe," Sylar hissed. His words sent another stab of fear through Mohinder. "Claire told you, didn't she… couldn't keep it to herself, could she?"

"Gabriel, please don't do this."

The words sounded small and foolish. Mohinder held up his hands as if he meant to ward him off.

He realized that there would be no talking Sylar out of whatever it was that he was planning to do to him. Mohinder made a split second decision and made a break for the door.

It was an attempt that was thwarted immediately. Mohinder's hand barely touched the surface of the door handle before he was yanked backwards and away from escape.

Invisible hands seized Mohinder by the throat and flung him in the direction of the bed. Mohinder cried out as the back of his head struck the mattress, causing the ancient box springs to groan under the strain. However, Mohinder was determined not to give up. Feeling as though he had to fight now for his very life, he pushed himself upwards and into sitting position, prepared to run again.Yet, it was a pointless attempt. Sylar came into view above him and, with his own hand this time, shoved Mohinder back down onto the bed, his fingers crushing his windpipe. Mohinder made a move to push him off but was greeted with a sneer as those fingers around his neck effectively cut off a good portion of his breathing. There was a moment of panic as he felt himself start to choke. Mohinder willed himself to relax as best he could, allowing a small trickle of air into his near screaming lungs.

"Where did you possibly think you were going to go?" Sylar asked as if he were genuinely curious for an answer.

Mohinder didn't respond, not that he could. The squeezing continued and his panic mounted as he gasped, his eyes big and pleading for mercy. It seemed to work, for Sylar's grip around his throat loosened slightly. Desperate for air, Mohinder drew in deep ragged breath, still fully aware of the hand around his throat but grateful to breathe at least somewhat comfortably once more.

"It's good to see you again," Sylar murmured.

Mohinder sucked in another painful breath as Sylar's opposite hand started to trail upwards. A lone fingertip lightly grazed the stubble on his cheek before moving on towards his lips, where the finger played lazily across his bottom lip, rubbing sensually along the surface.

Mohinder stayed perfectly still as the other man continued to caress him, slowly and maddeningly. Mohinder could feel just how hard his heart was beating against his ribcage, his body breaking out in a cold sweat. His every nerve was set on fire in anticipation of what he was all but sure lay ahead. Images of being brutalized, having his free will stripped away from him, helped give rise to the terror he couldn't fight against.

Mohinder closed his eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. The battle was already lost, all that was left was the hope of living through it.

Sylar leaned in even closer, climbing onto the bed with him and bringing his lips against Mohinder's own, his breath hot.

"Did you have a good time?" Sylar asked.

"Was Gabriel compliant enough? Eager enough? Tell me the truth- was it a big enough thrill for you, Mohinder or were you hoping for a little more?" Sylar tone was pure poison as he tilted his head to whisper the words into Mohinder's ear, dragging his tongue along the edge.

Instinctively, Mohinder jerked away at the sensation. This seemed to irritate Sylar, for he reacted violently when he turned back towards him. He removed his hand from around Mohinder's throat, seizing him by the chin and making sure to dig his fingers in hard enough to bruise as he pulled Mohinder closer, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"Now, don't you dare play shy with me. You act as if I have forgotten about Montana…" He straddled Mohinder and shoved him down onto the bed, effectively pinning him beneath his own body.

Mohinder turned his head away, fear and disgust crawling across his skin as he felt Sylar growing hard against his thigh. Sylar wasn't pleased with the silent treatment. He had waited a long time to see Mohinder again, to have him like this once more… he wasn't about to let him spoil it with this pathetic attempt at stoicism. Sylar desperately craved a reaction from him, so he went right for the jugular.

"Or would you prefer for it to be like it was in New York, Mohinder…? You do remember what happened last time you decided to play games with me?"

The words had the desired effect. Mohinder was suddenly fighting him, in a last ditch attempt to dislodge the larger man and throw him off balance.

"You bastard. Get off me!" Mohinder cried out.

Sylar only laughed in response to his feeble attempts.

"Don't tell me you actually liked fucking that pathetic little mama's boy…"

"You can go to Hell," Mohinder protested, hands pressed against the other man's chest, still straining, still fighting.

"Pretend all you want… but I know as well as you do, that you hated yourself for what you did…" Mohinder whispered hotly.

Something inexplicable and dark flashed in Sylar's eyes for a brief moment before he took Mohinder by the shoulders and slammed him down hard, holding him there with a combination of his own strength and his precious telekinesis. He dug his fingertips into the sensitive flesh, his grip grinding harshly against his collarbone, making Mohinder wince in pain as Sylar held him down firmly.

"Is that so?"

Sylar sat back. "I bother to save your life and this is how you repay me - by sending Peter after me?"

"This – I didn't," Mohinder protested. "I didn't know…no one told me!"

"You were never worth the trouble," Sylar sneered, ignoring Mohinder's protests as his lips drifted downwards, inches from Mohinder's own.

"I should have done us both the favor and killed you a long time ago…"

Mohinder didn't even have a chance to respond before Sylar lifted himself up and with a flick of his finger and sent Mohinder flying backwards off the bed. One minute, he had been lying there helpless and unable to move, and, in the next, he was sailing through the air. Mohinder hit the wall at the far end of the room, hard enough to stun. He blacked out for a moment as the back of his head made contact with the hard surface. When he came to a moment later, the pain in the back of his skull was immense, bringing with it a wave of nausea. Mohinder found himself doubled over, struggling against the bile that rose up in his throat and the sudden intense pain that gripped him. He reached back to gingerly touch the spot which he had struck and was horrified to find his fingertips coated in blood. He looked up towards his tormentor, who was advancing towards him. Mohinder used the wall to push himself upwards but was stopped as he was once more slammed into it. His vision blurred and spun out of control around him as he desperately fought the wave of darkness that rushed up to meet him.

He was held and pinned against the wall, his body being inched upwards until he was at last being held high above the carpet. He tried to speak, but found pressure on his vocal cords, preventing him from uttering even a word of protest.

"If only I had killed you when I had the chance, none of this…" There was a certain sadness in Sylar's eyes. Mohinder could see the killer struggling and he knew that Gabriel was there, every part of the ruthless persona that Sylar fought to portray was battling against the man that Mohinder loved for control. He could see it in the conflict that waged now in those dark eyes of his.

Although Mohinder remained pinned to the wall, the grip on his voice box was loosened enough for him to drag in the painful breath that he needed so desperately.

"Please," he managed to whisper, the words sounding raw and pleading as he managed to gasp them out.

He saw Sylar take a step back from him, shaking his head as if trying to clear it, stopping to put his hand against his head as if suddenly struck with terrible pain.

Mohinder watched him gasp, the distraction causing him to release Mohinder from his telekinetic hold. He dropped down to the floor, falling to a crumpled heap against the wall. Mohinder pushed himself upwards and went to stand but Sylar turned back towards him and advanced. He reached down and hoisted Mohinder up roughly by his bicep. He seemed to forget that Mohinder had been trained quite well in how to defend himself. With one quick movement, Mohinder used the other man as momentum, and he placed his hand over Sylar's own; with his right leg he lashed out, catching him in the kneecap. Sylar gave a startled grunt of pain as he fell forward and Mohinder used his fall to reach up and grab him by his shoulders, throwing him into the wall. Sylar had enough time to stop himself from being smashed face-first into the hard surface, but not enough time to keep his knee from giving out from under him. He toppled forward, dazed for a moment, which gave Mohinder just enough time to reach into the pocket of his discarded coat and pull from it his handgun.

Sylar was climbing back to his feet, absolutely furious, and as he moved to turn around, he was aware of cold metal being pressed into his temple. Startled and, surprisingly enough, impressed, he turned slightly towards the panting man beside him. Sylar heard the gun being cocked, the sound deafening in the near silence of the room.

"Do it, Mohinder… I might just let you…"

Mohinder faltered in that second, his finger pressed tightly against the trigger, but he couldn't… couldn't fire...

It was enough for the table to turn once more. Whirling around, Sylar caught Mohinder by the throat and, with a mere thought, wrenched the gun roughly from his outstretched hand and sent it flying to the other side of the room.

Mohinder gave a startled cry as, once more, he was thrown into the wall. This time, Sylar was right beside him, pressing his entire body into Mohinder's own as telekinetic hands replaced the ones previously around his throat.

Mohinder struggled in vain against the invincible bonds, fighting now for his very life as consciousness started to slip away from him.

Even as wakefulness deserted him, Mohinder was still all too aware of the other man's close proximity. He could feel his hot breath as it trailed after him, grazing against the side of his face as the other man simply ran his lips down over his own, down his neck.

"No more games," Sylar seethed, "This time I really am done with you."

Mohinder repressed a shudder at the feel of him… so close. The pressure on his throat was too much and he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. He could feel himself slip into unconsciousness. Just as he started to give into it, he was jerked back into reality by an agonizing pain.

And he realized with horror that his throat was being sliced open. He could feel the blood starting to flow from the wound and down to pool along the collar of his shirt.

Just as he started to pass out, he could have sworn that Sylar was looking at him with something that, if he didn't know better, could have been regret. It was looming there in those large, dark eyes of his.

"I'm sorry," Sylar whispered, releasing him. Mohinder went to speak, but couldn't as he blacked out.

Claire hadn't expected Peter to appear out of nowhere, but, on second thought, maybe she should have. It did certainly seem more likely that they'd simply have Peter find her, rather than the whole swat team of agents and helicopters that in her panic she had envisioned.

The Company didn't exactly go for showy. If her father wasn't going to hear her out and listen to her, then it was quite clear that he still saw her as a child, a little girl. To prove that point, he had sent Peter to come get her, which infuriated her all the more. She had turned around and there he was, as if he had suddenly just appeared out of thin air. In a way, he had. He was standing there, silent as the grave with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes narrowed and disapproving. Claire gave a startled jump when she nearly bumped into him. She had instinctively backed up and into the phone booth that she had previously stood in. She was none too thrilled to realize that she had been caught and caught with nowhere in the world to run to. But she had still managed to warn them. It wasn't much, but it was something. Even if she was going to be dragged back to headquarters, she was at least pleased with the fact that she had managed to do that much.

"You are so lucky it's only me," he told her as he took Claire by the arm and hauled her out of the booth before roughly releasing her. His anger sent her skidding backwards for a moment before she could regain her balance. Furiously, she turned to him, incensed over the treatment.

"How fucking dare you!"

"Me!" He shouted back, not above having it out with his headstrong niece for the moment.

"Do you even know how much trouble you are in?!"

"I have an idea," she said petulantly as she folded her arms across her chest and glared at him

"You think this is funny?" Peter continued as he advanced on her.

"Goddamn it, Claire! You are so lucky that your father sent me after you and not a whole team of agents. You may be able to heal but how'd you like to have to cough up a couple hundred rounds of bullets."

Claire stiffened at those words.

"My father would never do that…"

"You keep pushing him and he will… How can you be such a smart girl and still be so goddamned naïve?" he questioned.  
"He's had the entire company tearing shit apart looking for you."

"He knows where to find me," she told him.

"Are you that naïve, Claire?" Peter asked.

"What does that mean?" She was curious.

"That bullshit about us being monitored and all that, if that were true…"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

He paused. "Goddamn it! It's me, Claire…I'm the Company's tracking system. I am the only one who could have found you."

Claire went to the motel door and hesitated for only a moment before she knocked, casting a look towards Peter as she secretly hoped he'd take the hint to not race in there fired up and ready for the kill. His head was tilted to the side and she could see he was listening, trying to see what was happening in the room.

She watched as a look of worry crawled across his features and his concerned expression deepened quickly.

"I only hear one heartbeat… and it's faint," he told her, urging her back with his arm.

Peter used his own telekinesis to pry the door open, sending it flying into the wall. Claire took a breath before removing the handgun in the back of her waistband. She moved in front of Peter and entered the room cautiously.

The first thing she noticed was that the room looked as if it has been ransacked; furniture lay scattered and broken all over the room. Claire gingerly made her way inside, stepping over and across broken debris as she did so. The panic that she had managed to keep in check started to spread, seizing her tightly in its grip.

Then she heard it- the faint sound of a groan. She rushed forward, weapon in hand, rounding the side of the bed. She let out a gasp when she found Mohinder near unconsciousness. He was laying face-first on the floor with a small but spreading pool of blood surrounding him.

"Oh my god," she whispered, horrified.

"So, you still think he's harmless?" Peter snapped as he came up behind her. She ignored him as they both hurried over to Mohinder and knelt down beside him so they could roll him over. Claire let out a sigh of relief to see that he was still breathing. Tenderly, Peter dragged Mohinder into his arms, cradling him. Claire noticed the tears in Peter's eyes as he took Mohinder's chin gently in hand, tilting it to reveal an ugly looking gash on his neck, one that did not appear to be life threatening, but still bled rather profusely.

"Get me some water," Peter told her, looking down at the man he loved with sorrow and worry in his eyes. Claire nodded and went to fetch it from the bathroom while Peter tore a strip of the sheet off the bed and applied pressure to the cut.

"Why couldn't you listen to me?" Peter moaned as he pressed down hard on the wound.

The gesture caused Mohinder to let out a low groan, his eyes fluttering as he started to come to.

"You there? Do you hear me?" Peter asked.

Mohinder opened his eyes then, his vision blurring around the edges as Peter's face came into focus in front of him.

"Peter?" The words sounded jumbled in his confusion.

"Yeah, it's me, don't try to move, ok?…" Peter said, placing his hand on Mohinder's chest as the other man made a move to get up.

"Gabriel, I have…" Mohinder protested as he tried to push himself upwards. A wave of dizziness forced him back.

"Gabriel tried to kill you," Peter said with a grimace.

"It wasn't him…it was," Mohinder faltered then as Claire came back into the room with a paper cup full of water.

Peter took it from her and set about cleaning the blood away as best he could.

"What the hell happened in here? Where is Gabriel?" she asked.

"I don't know and even if I did…" Mohinder gave Peter a look full of meaning as he struggled to sit up on his own.

Peter stood up then. "I am going outside to check things out."

He went to the door and looked back at Claire, who made a move towards him, but he waved her back.

"Both of you stay here," he ordered, his tone booking no argument from either of them.

Claire nodded, knowing that if she or Mohinder did chance trying to get away, it wouldn't do any of them a world of good, especially with what she had just learned.

Once the door was shut behind Peter, Claire went back over to Mohinder.

"Can you get up?"

Mohinder tried again, nodding. "I think so."

"Are you in pain?" Claire asked, concerned by the grimace on his face.

"I'll live," Mohinder told her gravely.

"You know he's not going to find him out there. Why the hell is he even bothering?" Mohinder added.

"Because he's a first rate moron," Claire replied as she reached down to help Mohinder get to his feet.

Mohinder stood and put a hand to the sharp pain blossoming on the side of his neck.When he took his fingers away, he found that they were coated with blood.

He grimaced at the smear of crimson and looked up to find Claire watching him with a pained expression on her face.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

He dropped his hand away and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine…"

"Did he…" Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, unable to finish.

"Yeah, he did…" Mohinder said quietly. "But he couldn't go through with it; he couldn't kill me," Mohinder whispered sadly. Then he paused as if something unexpected had suddenly dawned on him.

A look of fear swept over Mohinder's face and he started towards the door in a hurry, Claire at his heels.

"Mohinder… what is it?"

Mohinder threw open the door of the room and hurried out into the parking lot. He did a quick sweep of the premises and found them empty and deserted. There was no sign of Peter anywhere.

"Goddamn it!" he swore as he turned back to Claire.

Peter had left them there and gone after Gabriel alone.

There was a moment when consciousness greeted him that he had no idea where in the world he was.

Tentatively, Gabriel opened his eyes and blinked upwards, completely disoriented as he found himself staring into an overwhelmingly large night sky. The galaxies of brilliantly lit stars swam out in front of his vision and seemed to encompass his whole being. The wind rustled through him, through his clothing, crawling across his skin, dry and warm. He rolled over onto his side as a sudden spasm of coughing gripped him, leaving him retching into the dirt. His throat felt parched and dry, making the coughing that much more violent as he struggled to catch his breath. After a few moments, the spasms subsided and Gabriel slowly managed to pull himself up into sitting position. He looked around him, trying to do his best to place where he was or, better yet, how he had gotten there.

He tried to move, carefully testing his limbs which were now starting to come awake as he moved into a more comfortable position. It was then that he realized that he was somewhere in the middle of the desert. Gabriel grimaced as he forced himself to his feet, dusting himself off as he did so. He turned in a slow circle, peering out into miles of stark landscape. Off in the distance, he could see the twinkling lights of the city and, by using his sensitive hearing, he was able to pick up the sounds of cars a mile or so off to his right.

Then it came back to him, memories flooding over him so suddenly that they drove him back downwards, falling to his knees as images washed over him and he became all too aware of what he had done. What Sylar had done. He had nearly killed Mohinder; He had left him alone and hurt in that motel room. He pushed himself up panicking as he started walking, half running, not caring about Claire's words nor concerning himself with the fact that the Company could very well be out in full force, looking for him. He was only filled with the need to find Mohinder, to make things right. He reached into his back pocket for his cell phone and as he flipped it open, his fingers went automatically to dial Mohinder. But he stopped himself. What could he possibly say once more to make it okay? He had hurt him yet again and there would be no begging for forgiveness this time. He had to get away, somehow. Had to…because he knew, now, that he would never be free of the specter of Sylar that haunted him, haunted the both of them. As long as he was near Mohinder, there was no way for him to control the part of himself that was determined to take over, determined to destroy what he had tried so hard to rebuild.

"This is your fault," he whispered to himself.

In his head, he heard Sylar answer him with laughter, the growl of it low and mean. _Oh? My fault…_ the voice countered._ I am not the one who let weakness cost us everything, was I? This is all you…_

"You hurt him. How could you? How could do that him again after what…"

_He deserved it. He lied to us. He betrayed us. It's time you grew up and faced the truth: No one in this world cares if you live or die but me Gabriel. I am all you have left…_

"Leave me alone- just…"

Gabriel suddenly felt as if his head would explode from the pressure. A barrage of images assaulted him, colored now in terrible stark reds and blacks, images of things he had done– the scissors being slammed into his mother chest and that startled O of shock her mouth had made as she realized that he had stabbed her...

Then the scene switched, faded from view to reveal the sight of a young girl. It wasn't just any girl. It was Claire. She appeared years younger, dressed in a cheerleading uniform and she was running from him down a long hallway.

Then he was flashing through the images of Mohinder, seeing him pinned underneath him, completely nude and helpless, all the while begging him to stop but Sylar didn't; he had only wanted to hold on, desperate and terrified of the intensity of his emotions, the desire that coursed through his veins stronger and more terrifying than any emotion he had ever felt.

Gabriel felt as if his head would come apart from the pressure of these colliding images. He placed his hands against the side of his head as the pain increased. He gasped and fought it. He did not want to see everything laid out so clearly before him- like a moving montage, a movie screen forcing him to relive every awful, horrible thing that he had ever done in his life.

It was too much.

All that mattered now was stopping that voice and these images. The horrible, hateful images of so much pain and blood and, most of all, Mohinder. It was overwhelming seeing his face so clearly, seeing everything that had come before- pinning Mohinder against the wall, eyes wide and fearful, his lip torn and bloody.

He could see those eyes of his, terribly wide and frightened as they stared up at him, silently pleading with him for mercy.

"Leave – me – alone," Gabriel whispered to himself as he wrapped his arms around his midsection, desperate to stop the wealth of memories that flooded over him, consuming him. Gabriel doubled over, breath heavy as he shut his eyes, desperately trying to preserve the last shred of control he had. But it was useless. He gave himself up, allowing once more for that cold blanket of blackness to consume him, to find its way inside him and swallow up every last piece of his sanity.

This time he knew that there would be no coming back.

When he opened his eyes again, it was Sylar that stared out onto a desolate landscape. He heard the crunch of gravel under a boot heel and his whole body screamed for a fight, a war. It had been far too long. Instantly, his shoulders straightened as the other person carefully approached him. For once, that little shit had impeccable timing…

A smile flitted across Sylar's lips as he stood up slowly and turned around, coldly facing the slight, dark haired man that stood before him.

"What took you so long, Peter?" he asked.


	20. An Ending

Part 20  
An Ending

Rated R for language, violence, and angst.  
Word count: 5592

Summary: Peter and Sylar face off, as Claire and Mohinder's attempts to find them are thwarted by the Company.

AN: Final chapter guys, and wow, thanks so much for sticking with me through this. When I started this story, I never in a million years imagined the love and support that I would get for it. Thank you! It means the world to me to have you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Loves 

Also a thousand thank you's to my beta Motsureru for sticking with me throughout this fic! hugs

"I guess you know why I am here," Peter said as he studied his rival carefully, watching him for even the slightest hint of movement.

Sylar, for his part, appeared calm, too calm, as if Peter posed no threat in the world to him.

That may have been the case years ago, but things were different now. Peter was different. He was no longer that same innocent, naïve kid he had been when last they had met. No, four years and a lifetime's worth of grief later had hardened him, made him tough. And now, face to face with his enemy of long ago, he was determined that nothing in the world was going to stop him from killing Sylar. Peter was determined to succeed or die trying. Anger surged through him as he readied himself for a fight, one that had been much too long in coming.

"You came here to kill me, right?" Sylar replied arrogantly. "Well, fucking do it already Petrelli, and stop wasting my time."

Peter had had more than enough of Sylar's cocky attitude. Throwing Sylar a disgusted sneer, he didn't waste another moment with idle chatter.

The battle was on.

Peter threw out his right hand, sending with it a bolt of nuclear energy aimed directly at his target. But Sylar was quick on his feet and ready for him.

Sylar countered it with a small ball of ice, one that, in a mere second, turned flame into useless ash.

"That was pathetic," Sylar laughed as he flicked his hand and sent Peter sailing backwards where he hit the ground some thirty feet away. The force of it was hard enough to crack Peter's back in half. The pain was immense, excruciating agony that for the moment left him dazed and completely immobile.

Peter struggled to move as the broken bones started to mend back into place. Yet, before he could fully heal, there was the familiar feeling of invisible fingers wrapping themselves around his throat, throttling him. He gasped and choked and, using all of his strength, somehow managed to shoot a sheet of ice towards where Sylar was standing. He heard Sylar hiss sharply with pain as he made successful contact with the other man. The action caused Sylar to lose his telekinetic grip on him. This gave Peter the opportunity to get to his feet, however slowly, as the bones finished healing back into place. Sylar used a touch of his nuclear ability to melt off the ice crystals that had formed along the length of his torso. Grunting with annoyance, he advanced on Peter, determined to kill him once and for all.

"Drive faster," Mohinder urged. Claire, in the driver seat beside him, nodded grimly as she pressed her foot down on the accelerator. The action pushed the rental car they were in past eighty-five and quickly towards ninety. Luckily for them, the roads leading out of the city and into the desert were deserted at this time of night. They had been driving for a good fifteen minutes now, minutes that seemed to stretch out unbearably long.

Both of them sat in a shared, stony silence as they struggled with their own respective thoughts. Claire's mind was busy trying to make sense of the complex tangle of thoughts running circles through her head. She tried, and failed, to grasp the circumstances that had led up to what must have transpired between Mohinder and Gabriel back at the motel. Not wishing to pry, she simply followed Mohinder's instructions, simply turning left and right as he requested.

Thankfully, he had managed to get a GPS lock on Gabriel's cell phone, which had given them an idea as to where he was. However, they had been unable to reach either him or Peter on their respective phones; both had gone straight to voicemail, a fact they found disheartening but not unexpected.

Claire chanced glancing in Mohinder's direction, her quick gaze taking in the sight of him disheveled and still bleeding with his clothes haphazardly tossed on. His eyes, red-rimmed and glazed over, simply stared out the onto the road, unseeing.

Claire coughed in an effort to break the eerie silence between them and reached across the seat to rest her hand on Mohinder's knee. He seemed surprised by the gesture when he looked down and found her hand there, gentle and comforting. Mohinder tried to give her a reassuring smile in response but the attempt failed to match anything but the sight of his heart breaking apart before her eyes.

The pain there was so real and so palatable that, without a word being said, Claire suddenly knew for sure what had occurred between Mohinder and Gabriel.

The sudden realization made her heart contract painfully in her chest and tears of sympathy sprung to her eyes in response.

"Mohinder…" Her voice was hesitant as she spoke, searching for the right words to offer him.

"Yes?" Mohinder returned.

The tension in the car only deepened; there were so many questions that she longed to ask him and yet couldn't bring herself to.

Instead of asking, she patted his knee.

"I'm sorry for this," she whispered, knowing how weak it came out and how little it did to reflect how truly sorry she felt.

"Me too," he replied. There was a rush of breath released, relief, as the words she had wanted to ask were dropped. Of one thing she was certain: the past needed to be buried and stay buried. Mohinder and Gabriel deserved a chance to be happy. If it was in her power to make that happen, she would do whatever it took.

Peter was growing frustrated with how things were progressing. It seemed that whatever he threw at the former serial killer, it was deflected with complete and total ease.

The infuriating part was that Sylar did it all while wearing that smug, superior grin on his arrogant face.

Peter was now fully ready to wipe it off for good.

Still, he wasn't getting anywhere; no matter how hard he came at Sylar it was thwarted as easily as the other man breathed. Each and every dazzling and deadly ability he could conjure at a moment's notice was served right back at him. Each and every ability he had spent years training himself to master was perfectly counterbalanced by yet another burst of nuclear energy or telekinesis. There seemed to be an endless supply of tricks that Sylar had up his sleeve, ready to pull out and use without a seconds hesistation.

No matter how frustrated he became, however, Peter was still not about to lose hope. He knew there was still at least one very important advantage he had over the other man: while he had been injured a few times in the midst of their battle, Peter had the fortunate ability of being able to heal almost instantaneously from anything Sylar dished out.

When Sylar had hurled a shard of ice at him, nearly cleaving Peter's shoulder clean in half, Sylar had watched with clear disdain as the wound healed immediately.

It pleased Peter to see that the use of such an ability was getting under the killer's skin. Over and over again, Sylar tried and failed to inflict damage on him, damage that simply refused to take.

Peter could see him growing more and more irritated as the fight continued, both men refusing to back down.

Peter came to realize that perhaps he had misjudged Sylar. It had been four years since they had last fought one another. Back then, Sylar already had a firm and steady grip on his powers, but now he was even more skilled with them.

Peter was growing tired, blood loss was making him dizzy and off kilter. But this bastard had made it personal and Peter had a grudge to settle with him, one he was not about to walk away from.

Peter didn't just owe him for what he had done to Mohinder but also for what he had done to Peter himself and his family. Sylar was the reason that his brother was dead; if it hadn't been for him, Nathan's children might not have had to grow up without him.

Peter soldiered on. He would find Sylar's weakness, and when he did, he would take him down once and for all.

As they continued to drive, Claire noticed something ahead in the distance. Leaning forward, she studied the colored lights that dotted the bleak, dark landscape, and her heart dropped straight into her stomach. She had a sinking suspicion of just who it was up ahead.

"What's going on up there?" Mohinder asked from the seat beside her; concern heavy in his voice.

"There is something you should know…" she started, not sure how to tell him what she had done. She figured the best thing would be to tell him the truth.

"What's that?"

"I had to shoot a company agent." she answered quickly.

"You did what?"

Mohinder's mouth dropped into an O of shock at those words. He turned from her to the road block fast coming into view and made a split second decision.

"Stop the car!" he told her. She threw him a look, realizing that he was right, before she slammed her foot down on the brakes. It sent the speeding car spinning out before skidding off onto the shoulder of the road, kicking up a huge cloud of dust as it did so.

Claire started to turn in her seat to ask him if Mohinder was alright but didn't get the chance.

Suddenly,as if out of nowhere, five cars pulled up in front of them and at least a dozen people flooded out. They were all holding assault rifles, leveled right at that them.

They were surrounded, with nowhere to run.

"Claire…"

It was her father's voice.

She shivered as she caught a glimpse of him through the windshield; he was standing behind and away from the others.

"What do I do?" Claire asked, turning to Mohinder.

"You shot an agent," he told her quickly. "You need to give yourself up."

"Turn the vehicle off… now," her father directed, his booming voice hard and commanding.

"Do what he says…"

"We can still…"

"Goddamn it Claire - no! We can't, this isn't something we are getting out of. Now shut off the engine before they shoot us."

She nodded and turned off the car. As soon as she did, her driver's side door was ripped open and fellow agents were pulling both she and Mohinder from the vehicle.

Mohinder didn't have even a moment to protest before he was being slammed roughly into the side of the car, face first.

Mohinder turned his head to the right, away from the scene before him, the chatter of so many agents milling to and fro - orders being issued, voices carrying on. Beyond that, a sight greeted him that gave him pause and then stole the very air from his lungs.

Out in the desert there was the sound of explosions as light lit up the sky around it, and he could feel the earth under his feet vibrating ever so slightly from the force of the blasts.

That was when he knew what the Company had done.

They had given Peter free reign to take out Sylar, quarantining the area and catching their wayward fugitives in the process.

"Let me go!" Mohinder demanded, pushing back against the agent holding a gun to him.

"Don't fight us," came the reply. But Mohinder didn't care… couldn't care...at that moment.

Throwing an elbow back, he caught the man behind him in the face and sent him pin-wheeling backwards, crying out in pain. Mohinder started to make a run for it, but it was a foolish gesture and one that didn't get him very far.

He was once more thrown back against the side of vehicle, this time by the throat and a blinding pain that spread across his already aching skull, bringing white spots to his vision.

He slumped forward, nearly falling. Yet somehow he managed to pull himself upright, fighting off alternating waves of nausea and unconsciousness as he struggled to focus.

He could see Claire now. She was handcuffed and being pulled away from the scene, being marched right past her father as Bennet started towards Mohinder.

The agents on scene parted a way for him as he came forward. He looked towards Claire briefly, shaking his head sadly as he ordered her to be placed into custody immediately.

"Let him up!" Bennet barked and instantly everyone moved away, leaving Mohinder and Bennet semi-alone.

"I did nothing wrong," Mohinder told him as they came face to face.

"I know that, but this is for your own good…"

"Fuck you," Mohinder sneered, all trace of his usual civility gone.

Bennet only stared at him, head tilted to the side as he studied him.

"I am not coming back with you people…"

"Yes. You are." Bennet told him flat out.

"No, Bennet…. You are going to get in whichever of these cars you came in and you will leave me here…"

"Why in the hell would I do that?"

Mohinder straightened his shoulders, stepping closer to him.

"Because you owe me. We both know it… you want him dead, fine, but I won't leave him…"

"Have you lost your mind…?" Bennet replied, incredulous. "Who the hell do you think you are, Suresh, giving me orders?"

Mohinder made his expression as hard as possible as he stepped right up to Bennet and got in his face.

"Only the man who gave this company … everything he has ever had. I will continue to give you that but… I am not leaving here without him, dead or alive. Do you understand that?"

"I could force you," was Bennet's threat. But Mohinder was done with threats and could see right through Bennet's false bravado, could see his resolve start to crumble as he realized now how serious Mohinder was.

"You could try," Mohinder replied.

The drive back to the Company was one of agonizing slowness for Claire. She made sure to keep carefully to her side of the seat while her father rode in the back beside her. Neither one of them spoke to the other; the silence was thick and heavy between them.

After forty five minutes, Claire could no longer take it; quiet tears streamed down her face as her imagination played through every awful scenario.

Her mind still struggling to come to terms with what they had left behind in that desert, or rather, who. She desperately tried to cling to a sense of hope for all concerned but her gut instinct told her otherwise, dread twisting her stomach into knots until she felt physically nauseous from it.

"What's going to happen now?" she finally had to ask, her eyes peering out onto the rolling away landscape, the night's dark bleakness mirroring her unhappy thoughts.

"To you?" Bennet asked.

"I know what happens to me…" she whispered back, sarcasm evident in her tone.

"Do you?" came her father's cryptic reply.

Claire turned towards him then, facing him for the first time. His expression remained unreadable in the car's dark exterior.

"I broke a rule. A big one… I am getting gassed and bagged. I know how these things work," she spat.

She turned away from him to look back out the window, fighting the alternate waves of anger and grief that coursed through her.

"I'm proud of you," he said a moment later.

"You're what?" she asked, stunned as she slowly turned towards him, searching out her father's face for the truth of his feelings.

"I said I was proud of you. What you did was stupid and it will cost you… but you made your own choice, stood up for yourself, for a belief. How could I not be proud of the kind of woman you have become, Claire-Bear?"

The use of her long ago nickname cut deep, the already there tears overflowed as she wept openly now, gulping back sobs.

The words she wanted to say to her father stuck painfully in her throat as she stared down at her handcuffed wrists. She wanted nothing more than to hold her father and feel safe and loved in his arms once more.

"You will have to pay for your choices. But you already knew that, and whatever happens now, I am still your father and I still love you, Claire. I always will."

"Daddy," she whispered as she looked up at him, surprised to see tears in the corners of his own eyes as he looked at her. He smiled at her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head as he did so. Claire closed her eyes and savored the moment, leaning her head against her father's chest, needing his reassurance and his love now more than ever.

"I love you too," she whispered as she cried for her family, for her friends, and lastly, for herself. It hadn't been easy, but like it or not, she had survived, she had grown up, and she had found her own way in the unlikeliest of places.

Sylar kept coming at Peter with everything he had and still Peter wasn't backing down in the slightest. This realization only served to infuriate Sylar.

He was ready to try again with another burst of nuclear energy, hoping to daze Peter long enough to use his telekinesis to tear his head from his body. Then he heard it, the other heartbeat- loud, frantic. He had been aware for sometime of the barrage of Company men and vehicles a half a mile or so away from them; he could hear them quite clearly. But, this- this was closer, and more familiar.

Then he heard his voice…

"Sylar!" It was a split second, a split second that he should have known he couldn't afford to take, yet nevertheless his head swiveled towards the sound of his name being called, only to see a dark shape coming towards them. It was Mohinder, racing towards them as if he meant to stop them. Even from some hundred feet away, their eyes caught and held. Inwardly, relief flooded over Sylar at the realization that he was alive…

…

The blast caught him in the chest, sending Sylar flying backwards. The smell of his own flesh burning wafted up to greet him along with the crippling realization that he was hurt and hurt badly. He hit the ground hard enough to indent the earth under him. Lying there for a moment, Sylar thought maybe he would get back up, but when he tried, pain like he had never felt before hit him with the power of a freight train, forcing him back down to the ground.

Somewhere in the distance, even as he struggled to keep his focus, he could still hear Mohinder shouting his name.

Mohinder pulled up short when he saw Sylar was hit. His heart dropped into his stomach and, for a moment, fear gripped him hard and steady, making it impossible for him to move.

Then he saw Peter start towards the fallen man and Mohinder sprung after them, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste to get to them.

"No! Peter, Peter Stop!" he shouted frantically.

Peter paused only long enough to look at him before he shook his head sadly, ordering him away.

"I'm finishing this!" he told him, and it was clear to Mohinder that he had every intention of doing just that. Mohinder was only a few feet away now.

"No! Peter… stop, listen to me."

"No!" Peter countered, turning on him, his tone angered as he spun a round to confront Mohinder. For the moment Sylar was forgotten as they faced one another.

"Please… Peter. Don't do this."

"How many times, Mohinder? How many times is he going to try and kill you? How many times does he have to destroy you before you realize he doesn't love you? I love you!"

Mohinder took a step towards him, noticeing the tears that had sprung to Peter's eyes, his heaving chest. He was covered head to toe in blood and there was something so fierce, so determined in his expression that it frightened Mohinder.

"You don't understand," Mohinder insisted, but he knew the words were falling on deaf ears. How could Peter possibly comprehend what Mohinder could scarcely understand himself?

"Just leave, please…just leave us."

Mohinder all but begged Peter, who had turned away from him and started moving towards Sylar's prone form. Mohinder stopped him, placing himself between the two. Behind him, Mohinder could hear Sylar's groans of pain as he laid on the dusty desert floor, trying to move but not able.

Mohinder held Peter's gaze, anger and horror coloring his features, the look on his face daring Peter to challenge him.

"Move out of the way, Mohinder…" Peter told him, his tone strangely flat.

"You'll have to kill me first, Peter," Mohinder told him and meant it.

"If I have to…" Peter started as he moved towards them again, but Mohinder wasn't budging.

"Just leave…" Mohinder told him, trying once more to reason with Peter.

Peter caught the desperate look in Mohinder's eyes, the tears gathered there, and the pained and stricken expression on his face. Peter's gaze skipped over him, landing on Sylar, who now lay mortally injured. Peter knew that there was no way that he could survive the injury he had just sustained, amazed that even now that he was still trying to get up. There was blood everywhere… no one could survive losing that much blood, not even Sylar.

Peter looked back towards Mohinder and suddenly, for the first time, everything was so clear to him. He finally understood the truth: he may have won the battle, but the war had been lost long before this night.

There had never been a place for him in Mohinder's life. No matter how hard he had tried to change that, no matter how much he had given, Mohinder had always belonged to Sylar and Sylar to him. Nothing in the past years, no matter how damaging, could change that one simple truth. Mohinder loved him, and he had never loved Peter.

"Please…" Mohinder pleaded now, "I am begging you, please…" He started to back away from Peter, moving closer to Sylar.

Peter nodded, his gaze catching Mohinder's and holding. Mohinder must have blinked, because Peter was there one moment and the next he was gone. All that was left was warm wind blowing against his face and the choking sounds of Sylar slowly bleeding out his life behind him.

Mohinder turned and started towards him, stopping as the other man on the ground tried to move, tried to get up, but couldn't. A hand was pressed into the open wound, failing to stop the steady flow of blood.

"Go away…Mohinder…"

There was no trace of hostility in his voice now, just the sound of pain etched with his last bit of strength as he growled out the words.

Mohinder shook his head and went towards him, stopping only when Sylar held a hand out and told him again to leave.

But Mohinder couldn't. He had never been able to let him go, and now was no exception.

"No," Mohinder told him firmly. He came and knelt down by his side, almost as if daring Sylar to fight him on it as he moved his hand away from the wound. What Mohinder saw caused him to gasp out loud, horrified.

Sylar was hurt, and he was hurt badly. The skin from his stomach up to his neck was a little more than a bloody, open wound. The smell of death caught Mohinder's nose.

Mohinder sat back on his knees and looked upwards at the large expanse of sky above them as the sudden futility of it all filled him.

The tears coming before he could stop them, wordlessly he rocked back and forth, trying to figure out what to do, when there was nothing, nothing anyone could do to make this right.

"Are you crying for him?" Sylar asked, the words broken and bitter as he turned over onto his side, coughing up blood as he did so.

Mohinder leaned over him, pressing a concerned hand onto his back. The touch seemed to surprise Sylar and he tried to move away, but stopped as the pain blossomed sharply across his mid section, making him nearly scream out loud.

Tears leaked down the corner of his eyes, trailing down the length of his face as it twisted and contorted from the white hot agony of his wound. Yet, underneath that, he was fully aware of Mohinder's hands on his shoulders, pulling him back towards him gently and urging him to lay down. Sylar tried to fight him, not wanting Mohinder to see him like this, but he couldn't do anything to stop him; the fight had gone out of him, all his strength having abandoned him. Unable to protest further, Sylar submitted and allowed Mohinder to cradle his head in his arms.

"Walk away … Mohinder…" he pleaded as he swallowed back a spasm of pain, coughing up more blood as he did so. Mohinder was quick to wipe it away with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Just walk away."

There were tears in Mohinder's eyes, shiny and wet.

"No… I won't."

"It was him you cared about…. Gabriel… not… not me," he finished.

Mohinder shook his head at that, knowing in his heart that was no longer true.

"You're Gabriel," he told him. "That night… that night in Montana, that was Gabriel, that wasn't…"

"Don't…"

"No… I need you to know. We don't have to pretend anymore, Sylar. I love you. I always did, even after…" The words came out in a rush, lifting the scab off old wounds, reopening them.

Sylar felt like he would break wide open in his hands, everything Mohinder said now cutting him to the core. Everything he had fought against. He had never wanted to care… yet, how could he have not? From the moment they had met, Mohinder had been the only one, the only thing worth anything…

"Mohinder. It was… never, never suppose to be…this…" Another spasm gripped him before he could finish, his whole body shaking, and Mohinder only pulled him closer, holding on as tightly as he could.

"Don't talk… let me call them, let me.."_Save your life_

"No, Mohinder… I want it to be over. I need it to…."

"No…"

"Let it go…Just let go…"

Mohinder could no longer contain the emotion that overcame him.

"I can't…" he whispered as he wept openly now. He pressed his forehead to Sylar's own, rocking their bodies back and forth.

"Please, I can't…" he repeated.

Mohinder continued to hold Sylar, trying in vain to stop the inevitable that was fast approaching them both.

He could feel Sylar start to shake in his arms and Mohinder knew, knew he was losing ground, losing it fast. There was so much still, so much unsaid and undone between them, so much now that they would never have the chance for …

Everything, everything they had ever been, ever would be to each other, was gone now… Mohinder could do nothing, hands completely tied. All he could do now was hold Sylar close, taking the good with the bad, reconciling himself to both and knowing that despite everything between them, that at last they both knew they had belonged each other, that they always would.

"Stay… please," Mohinder moaned as he felt Sylar suddenly still in his arms, breath rattled and then…

"It'll be …alright, Mohinder…" Sylar's last breath exhaled, his body stilling as Mohinder pressed a kiss to his lips, his sobs shaking them both.

"No," he murmured sadly, "please no…"

After everything, it couldn't be over. Mohinder sat there, feeling small and helpless, already his whole body going numb. The desert air was hot and warm against his face, drying the tears that spilled down his cheeks now, unbidden.

Epilogue

(4 years)

"I am getting too old for this shit," was Mohinder's response to his partner as he turned in his seat to face her. She had asked him why now, of all times, he had finally decided to officially retire from the Company and go back to doing his own research in New York.

His answer was greeted by her concerned, skeptical face as she simply rolled her eyes and looked away in response. He knew she was upset over his leaving but it had to be done. The truth was it had been a long time coming. All that was stopping Mohinder from putting forth his decision was the absence of the certain someone he needed to present it to. After that, he could leave and start his life over like he had been meaning to do over the last several years.

He had a lot of love and respect for Regina. After all, it had been Mohinder who had taken it upon himself to see her brought into the Company from the mental hospital that she had been placed in as a young woman, personally seeing to it that her amazing abilities be used for only good. In the process, he had fought the Company tooth and nail for the opportunity to train and partner her. It was a battle that he had, after much persuasion, won, but now she needed to make her own way. The time had come for the both of them to let go and move on.

"Besides, you'll get my job. Won't that be nice?" He patted her knee, a playful amount of sarcasm evident in his tone.

Regina snorted and threw a look back in his direction as if to say 'You have got to be kidding me.'

"Oh please. Like you're an old man… what are you, forty?" she countered.

"Forty-one. Besides, age really has nothing to do with it. I am just...done. I was simply biding my time, waiting ..."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "If you say so…"

"It'll be fine, Regina, you are more than capable of handling the department without me." He tried to reassure her once more. He really did have the utmost confidence in her. She was smart, well trained, and dedicated to their department. He saw no better person to take over for him.

"Will see…" She laughed, not convinced in the slightest.

They both looked up at the sound of boot heels clicking against polished tiles. Niki stood up from her desk and waved him over. Standing now, he turned long enough to hand Regina the cup of tea he had in hand.

"Hold this for me… I won't be long," he told her as he waved to Niki in greeting and made his way down the long hallway to the correct cell number.

Claire was in her usual spot, reading cross legged on the small plank bed, the only furniture allowed in her stark cell. He tapped on the glass to get her attention.

She looked up, offering him a smile when she spied who had come to visit. She tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her right ear before she closed the book on her lap and made her way over to him.

"How are you doing?" he asked her.  
"How do you think?" she countered, as was their customary banter. "I am getting antsy as all hell."

"Just one more week to go…" he told her.

She nodded. "Yeah, one more and then I am out of this place." She gestured to her stark cell room.

"And back to civilian life." A pause.

"God knows what I am going to do once I get out of here… but at least it will be out of here."

"That's kind of why I am here. I have a proposition for you," he told her.

She cocked her head to the side, curious as to what he had in mind.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"I'm going back to New York, back to my research, and I could use an assistant," Mohinder offered. "Are you interested?"

Claire studied him, "What about Regina?"

"What about her?"

"Well for one, I know that you are still training her. Don't you think it's too soon?"

"Regina can handle com without me. 'Sides… this place has too many memories."

His voice trailed away.

"I need a fresh start…"

She nodded, feeling tears whelm up in her eyes as she saw her heartache mirrored in his. The years could not be forgotten, both of them still living amongst the tattered shreds of their pasts, a past they could not escape from. Especially here…

A new start… a new life. It sounded good to her. And suddenly, she was filled with the first sense of real hope that she had felt in years.

"It will be good for both of us," he continued. She nodded, head bowed.

"I know," she whispered, her voice breaking ever so slightly. "I think it's just what we need."

"Is that a yes?"

She lifted her head, tears filling large blue eyes, she nodded.

"That's a yes…" she told him.

"Good, I'm going to hold you to that, Claire Bennet," Mohinder replied, returning her sad smile with one of his own.

"You better…" was her answer.


End file.
